


You Don't Like to Think About That

by lockandloadharley



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Apocalypse, F/M, Violence, apocalypseau
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 22:03:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 51,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1704137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lockandloadharley/pseuds/lockandloadharley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The U.S. thought at first it was something that spread like H1N1, but something more severe brought in from another country--that it was something that could be fixed...They were so, so wrong. It became widely spread around the planet and you had to move out of Houston since the Corrupted wandered into town. That was thirty days ago. </p><p>Thirty days and death is still new to you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cacoethes

**Author's Note:**

> This is just another idea/storyline I'm trying out. I'm trying to not be cliche, though. Please leave feedback! Should I continue, or no? If there are any grammar mistakes, go ahead and correct me, please (I typically write at night so...You know how that goes.)  
> 

          

 Dave

 _Scritch._ You etch the line into the rock and shove it back in your pocket. Thirty days and death is still new to you. You find it hard to move forward. It is necessary, though, since your friends depend on you now. It’s--

           “Dave.” her voice is quiet. She doesn’t speak loudly like she used to. You turn towards the girl and her fern-colored, steady eyes find yours in the dark (a fire is too risky). She looks at you with a sad expression.

           “What?”

           “You still have that rock?” she inquires and gestures towards your pocket. You sigh and nod. “You aren’t running out of room yet?”

           “Almost, I guess.” You scoot over against the tree to make room for her. She sits beside you and leans her head back against the tree. “I just want to keep track of the time. It’s not like I have my phone anymore.”

           She falls silent and you listen to the others snoring softly. You’re not sure how they can sleep so soundly. Too bad you forgot how to weeks ago. “Jade?”

           “Yes?” she is still staring up at the black canopy of trees.

           “You should sleep.” She used to sleep a lot.

           “I can’t sleep.” she pulls her hood up to try to keep the mosquitoes from biting her neck. You feel her head slip down to rest on your shoulder and hear her exhale softly. You know she is tired and that she doesn’t feel safe sleeping after all these weeks. Nevertheless, Jade will fall asleep soon since you’re next to her.

           Thirty days have gone by horrendously slow and you have decided that you can’t trust anyone or anything except for your friends and your instincts (once in awhile you don’t trust those either). You have already experienced hot blood running between your fingers and under your nails, down your wrist and into your torn sleeve and the feeling of panic. You’re afraid that you won’t ever get used to the fear and always having to run and be on the move. But if you don’t keep moving then the Corrupted will get you (that’s what others have been calling them) and you will be killed or if they spare you your life, then you will want to kill other people like they do. No one knows yet what they really are--Rose says that they are humans who have gone super crazy--but words out that it’s some sort of...epidemic.

           The U.S. thought at first it was something that spread like H1N1, but something more severe brought in from another country--that it was something that could be fixed (the government thinks they can save everything, almost like a clockmaker who believes they can put anything back together). They were so, so wrong. It became widely spread around the planet and you had to move out of Houston since the Corrupted wandered into town. It was a horrifying event. Blistered people staggering after you and reaching at you with greasy hands and ripped nails, yelling. You don’t like thinking about it.

            You hear snoring in your ear and you know that Jade is asleep now. You reach over and gently pull off her glasses, putting them in your sweatshirt pocket.

            Thirty days will be thirty-one days in two hours.

 Jade

            You awake to the feeling of something crawling up your shin. You slap at it and open your eyes. Everything is blurry. It’s bright out now and the smell of morning dew is surrounding the horribly unprotected campsite Dave had found the night before.

             Dave moves from beside you and slides your glasses onto your face. He smiles at you and you blink before smiling back, hiding your concern. He hasn’t slept again.

           You move to speak, but he cuts you off. He shakes his head once and nudges Rose. She wakes up quickly, but when she tries to shake John it takes longer. He is still used to sleeping in until eleven every morning. You doubt that anyone could ever do that again. Grief hits you hard in the chest at that thought. You push it away as fast as you can. _Go away, go away, go away!_

           “We need to eat the food that is going to go bad first,” Rose pulls out a bag of bagels from the backpack. Dave nods.

           “We each get half of one bagel.” He says.

            John’s stomach lets out a sound of rage and we all look down, including John. Dave clears his throat after a moment and starts passing out bagel halves. You bite your lip and hold it out to John. “John, you can have my half.”

            John and Rose look at you in surprise and Dave just looks concerned because you aren’t eating. He sits back against the tree and nibbles on his bagel half. Rose does the same.

          “Are you sure, Jade? I really don’t want you to go hungry.” John looks at the food that you’re holding out hesitantly.

         “Yes! Take it; I’m not in the mood for stale bagels.” You sigh and he takes it slowly. You sit back next to Dave.

          “We need to start moving now. We should find shelter or something. It’s not safe to be out in the open like this.” Dave stands up and picks up the backpack. You grab it from him and lift it onto your back. The others stand as well. Dave has given up arguing with you that he can carry the bag and that you need to eat.  You always win when you remind him that he needs to sleep and that he needs to stop carrying all of the group’s weight. Rose said that arguing is bad for everyone and that it just makes the situation worse.

          You lead the way, following the directions Dave calls from the back of the line. You can imagine how he’s walking right now. His hand is probably gripping his katana with ivory knuckles. His head is tilted to the side, listening to the sounds around him. Your own fingers are wrapped around the cold handle of a knife. You had to use it once before. Back in Houston. You don’t like thinking about that.

          Breathing in the smell of ferns and dirt, you smell something else. _Fire?_ You stop walking. “Hold on.” You pass Rose your knife and find a good tree you can climb. You are pretty good at climbing trees. Putting your foot in a crook of two branches, you begin to scale it, reaching the top in a few moments. You poke your head out of the treetop and there you see it. Black smoke billows a couple hundred meters from here. You can’t make out what it’s coming from, but you guess it’s a camp or something. You go back down to your friends.

            “There’s a fire of some sort awhile ahead. It’s still burning—it’s still black. Should we go near it?”

           “I think we should keep our distance!” John raises an eyebrow.

           “Perhaps there is food. We should check it out. We have weapons after all.” Rose replies quietly.

           “I agree with John,” Dave looks at you.

          “Dave, we are running out of food. We need to get more before we starve!” you exclaim.

          “There are worse ways to die and unless you want to figure that out for yourself, Jade, then that’s exactly what you are going to do if you go mess around with whoever started that fire.” His voice remains steady. It’s aggravating how he does that. How can you get anywhere if you always stay on the safe side? It surprises you. Usually he is one to take risks.

           You sigh and keep walking and it took hours until finally John points out something interesting. A small cabin. With much debate, Dave actually decides to approach it. He looks nervous though, which is unlike him.

 

Dave

            Jade is persistent on going inside with you to check it out. As usual, you give up on quarreling with her and let her. You make sure John and Rose are positioned right inside the door to keep watch. Everything was boarded up except for the door, so you are worried that someone—or something could be inside.

          Holding your katana out in front of you, you start to make your way around the cabin with Jade at your heel. The light shining in through the cracks of the wooden boards covering the windows reflects off of the katana and shoots pools of silver light onto the ceiling. The floor boards scream underneath you, which doesn’t help the tense situation.

           You hear a soft squeak and sense Jade shifting behind you. You turn towards where you heard the noise. A rat is on its hind-legs, staring you down and twitching its nose almost as though imagining how you taste. It must have issues finding food, too. Jade looks uncomfortable at its behavior—she hisses at the rat. Girls…

           It worked, though. The rat cowers back and scuttles away, nails scratching against the wooden floorboards, and disappears behind a bookcase. Jade relaxes a bit, but not totally.

          Once the first floor is found acceptable, you both move onto the top floor, climbing the stairs carefully. It’s hard to not make the floor scream under your weight. The top floor is just as abandoned as the main level, the only evidence of previous life being the dusty furniture and clothing left behind in the drawers of three bedrooms. One bedroom has pictures of the previous owner pasted onto the walls. A teenage girl. The images haunt you and remind you of the past, so you steer clear of the room after checking it out.

            Jade and you return to John and Rose and deadbolt the door. “It’s all clear, but if we’re going to be rooming here for a while, we’re gonna have to secure the place better. Luckily this door swings inward, so we can push that china cabinet in front of it when we need it to be secured. The area around this place is kinda vulnerable even though it is fenced in, so…” You pause, unsure what to say. How do you fix that sort of thing? You have no idea how to build anything—you’ve never even touched a hammer before. It is one of those moments where you wish so badly that your older brother was here to help you out, but he’s still back in Houston probably (you know he’s not dead, even though that one part of you taunts you with dark thoughts). You got separated from him during the last wave.

           “We could set up a warning mechanism,” John saves you. “We can use the empty cans we saved and string them up. It will help us hear if something has touched them.”

           “Good idea, John.” You cast him a partial smile—you hardly remember how to smile. Rose touches his shoulder and smiles at him. She can smile, but you see it’s hard for her, too—the slight twitching at the corners of her lips and the middle of her lips pursing, unsure what to do. Jade tilts her head towards the windows where the strips of light being cast on the floor are fading quickly. “I don’t think we have much time for that. It’s getting dark now. Let’s just hope nothing bad happens and make sure to blockade any possible entrances on this level. Then we can eat and pick rooms.”

           Everyone pitches in and swiftly moves bookcases and tables in front of windows, but the window above the kitchen sink isn’t able to be covered from the inside since the sink blocks it. After blockading everything that Jade points at, you settle down with the others at the counter on the only chairs that weren’t used. You all pass around a can of corn. It’s cold and not filling, but you need to start stocking up on cans (you stacked your current collection towards the back of the counter already). Then rooms are selected.

          John previously suggested that he share a room with you and Rose and Jade room together, but Jade doesn’t seem to like the idea too much, her fingers automatically kicking into fidgeting-mode which is a habit she does when she’s uncomfortable. Rose, of course, notices but doesn’t take offense to it. She knows that Jade had grown dependent on you when it comes to getting to sleep, so she instantly suggests that she and John share the room with the bunks and you and Jade sleep together in the other room. It will be slightly awkward, sleeping in the same bed as her, but you guess it’s no different than sleeping with her any other time. You all bid each other good night and go into your rooms. Before you part, you glance at the door with stickers all over it.

 

        The teenage girl’s room is left alone. No one likes to think about where she is now.

 

Rose

 

            Your dreams are filled with tendrils of light and darkness. Everything seems to contradict in your dreamscapes. You run your slender fingers through their vapor-like trails and turn towards a violet pond with a rippling surface. Walking into it, you realize it’s not liquid. It’s something sticky and the air is filled with the stench of rotting flesh and it reminds you sickeningly of Houston somewhere back in your mind. It clots around your toes and under your nails and slowly slides up your bare legs, clinging. You try to shake it off in vain, swiping and slapping, your heart rate picking up. Its slippery grasp is tugging at you and it’s whispering to you. “Ouch, ow! Owie!” you slap it more. But it lets out a loud wail and you are ripped away from the pond back into your bunk.

           The room is very dark and someone is bouncing, holding their foot. “Why do you keep hitting me? Rose?”

           It’s only John. Only John—of course. Your stuttering heart begins to calm itself. “I’m sorry, John, I was having a strange dream. What would you like?” Your voice sounds odd. Strained, you think.

           “Can I sleep in your bunk?” John sounds embarrassed, but you don’t blame him for asking. You move over without hesitation and he crawls in with you quickly.

          “Were you having a nightmare, as well?” you are facing him.

          “N-no, I just couldn’t sleep up there.”

           “I understand.” You take a deep breath. “Well, now you are alright, okay? You can sleep safely now. I am right here.”

           “Thanks, Rose.” He pulls the covers over his head and falls silent. You feel the expansion of his chest against the sheets and listen to the steadiness of his breath. Closing your eyes, you feel the fingers of sleep grip your conscience and pull you deeper under the darkness. You actually feel peaceful at the moment—almost like nothing was different than it was before—of course nothing could fool you that easily, but you pretend at the moment. You are pretty much asleep when your ears prick up to holler that echoes off of the surrounding trees and sends your arm hairs to jolt up. You feel John shift beside you.

             “R-rose?”

 

Jade

           

            “Dave.”

            Your voice cuts through the silence of the room. Something had jerked you out of your slumber and something doesn’t feel right. You hate to wake Dave—it’s the first time that you actually see him sleeping and at peace, but all your instincts are awake and alert. “Dave.”

           His eyes open wide, catching yours. Alarm must be evident in your facial expression because he sits up instantly, reaching over the bed and grabbing his katana. You grab your knife from under your pillow, though your hands are trembling and your heart is racing. “I heard a noise from outside.”

         “Was it close?” his voice is hardly a whisper.

         “Yes.”

         He notices your shaking hands and reaches out, grabbing them. His fingers slide through yours steadily and he squeezes them. “Jade.”

        “What?”

        “You’re going to be fine. It will be okay.” That just sends a shiver up your spine and you sense nausea not too far away. “Jade, take deep breaths.”

          You nod and do so; it hardly calms you down though. The noises are so very close and are too familiar. Shrieking laughter and crazed hooting. God, oh, God, please make it stop. You used to be good at keeping calm during super challenging situations, like swerving out of the path of a car accident, but not after Houston. No, stop. Don’t think about Houston, you don’t like thinking about that at all, it doesn’t help anything.

        The sound of bushes being trampled and twigs being snapped is heart-stopping, especially when you hear one of them hitting a thick branch against everything it runs by—the thumping getting closer and closer—against something that you know is one of the fence posts outside. Giggling and snorting as—oh god.

      Dave stops squeezing your hands at the sound of an object smacking against the cabin. You open your mouth to say something to him—a ‘what do we do’—but he shakes his head abruptly and grips the katana like a lifeline. Multiple things are banging against the wooden logs of the cabin—you hear the hollow knocking of knuckles and the thudding of rocks hitting it. One hits the boards across your window and your head whips towards the sound. Dave holds up a finger to his lips.

           “They don’t know we are here.” He mouths to you and you have difficulties believing that because their snarls sound like they’re right in your ear. Dave winces at the sound—his ears are really sensitive, you recall—and furrows his eyebrows. You feel like being a little girl again like with your grandfather during a thunderstorm—throwing yourself at Dave and having the security of his arms locking you close and safe. But you can’t because things don’t work like that anymore. You may still be a kid, but you are 17, and you don’t do that now.

           The clink of your bedroom doorknob turning draws your attention to the door and causes your fingers to grip your knife tighter. It opens slowly, but it’s alright—it’s fine—it’s just John and Rose tiptoeing inside. John is shaking so badly and you feel your throat tighten. Dave gestures for them to come over to the bed and they do. You hug John like you want to be hugged and it helps you a little.

          

         Eventually the commotion dies off as the Corrupted lose interest in beating up the cabin and move onto their next victim. Dave hesitantly sets his sword down on the floor and your knife finds its place back under your pillow and you all let your nerves settle down as much as possible. Dave is the first to lay back down which queues everyone else to do the same. It is not a very large bed, so it’s kind of squished, but you actually find that you are more comfortable like that—you against Dave, John against your other side, and Rose on the other end against John. John and Rose are the first to doze off as per usual, leaving you and Dave awake, but gradually beginning to rest again.

        He holds your gaze firmly in the dark and you hear how his breath catches every twenty seconds or so, still weary and worn out by stress. You don’t have to wonder why. Dave wraps his fingers around your wrist, his thumb lightly moving over the thick veins on the bottom. Your heart is still beating irregularly even though your breathing has returned to normal and he must notice that.

      “Told you it would be alright.” His voice is hushed.

      “You can never be completely sure, though Dave.” You raise an eyebrow.

      “I know, but you should trust what I say.”

      “I do trust you.”

      “Good.”

       You close your eyes and feel the consistent strokes of his thumb over your wrist (you are pretty sure it’s not an intimate touch—he does it all the time to calm you down when you are on the verge of panicking). Your breathing finally slows, slows down to a beautiful normal and your head is heavy—it slides down by Dave’s neck and you drift off to sleep.

 

Dave

            Your breath hitches and you struggle to roll over. You’re unsure why until you open your eyes. Jade is really close to you and your closeness to the edge of the bed concerns you. You slide one of your long legs off the side and secure your position on the bed with it. There are a few beams of sunlight that found their way through the window and shine across the bed to the wall opposite to you. Morning already.

 

            You really want to move—the wet feeling on your chest is a sure sign that Jade is drooling on you and it’s kind of gross. It’s impossible for you to move unless you were either to roll on top of Jade or fall off the bed, so that’s out of the question. Instead, you carefully feel around for your sweatshirt on the floor and grab your rock. Then you reach under Jade’s pillow, take her knife and make another mark on your rock before returning it.

 

            Thirty-two days.

 

            Rose suddenly sits up and sighs, pushing her bangs off her forehead with her fingers. You look up at her and she looks back in return.

 

            “Good morning, David.” She offers a smile.

 

            “Hey, how’d you sleep after all that?” you inquire, trying to smile back (how do you do that again?).

 

            “Alright, I believe.” She glances down at Jade. “I see Jade has gotten well-needed sleep, too. That surprises me. Especially after Hou…” she stops and you feel your thumb twitch at even the first syllable of the city. Rose glances away. “Never mind, I didn’t intend to bring that up. Do you think we should allow them to continue sleeping or get them up?”

 

            Some of Jade’s hair clings to your arm so you brush it off. “I hate to say it, but we need to get to work. I’m pretty sure last night is a huge inspiration for getting the mechanisms up. Let’s wake them.”

 

            Rose nods and gets to work on waking John (which is not an easy task) and you nudge Jade. She sniffles and pushes your hand away sleepily.

 

            “Go away…” she mumbles and tries to move over in vain due to John being right next to her.

 

            “Come on, Sleeping Beauty. We have stuff to get done.” You poke her ribcage lightly and she groans.

 

            “This is my first time sleeping in a bed for the first time in a month…I want to enjoy it as much as I can.”

 

            “You can sleep in it later. Get up.” She punches you in the stomach—not too hard, but enough to make you choke and regret not making Rose wake her up. You blow in her ear really hard and she whines, finally sitting up. Her hair sticks up in random places and the side of her face that she was sleeping on is red.

 

            “I’m up, okay, Mr. Bossy?” She crawls over you, making sure to dig her bony knees into your torso before sliding to her feet on the floor. You wince and stand up by her. On the way out the door, you hip-butt her into the doorframe for revenge and luckily she decides not to strike back.

 

            Everyone eats a bit of the food remaining (which is drastically shrinking—you’re not sure what you’re going to do when that happens) and gets dressed. Rose makes a comment on how we need to find a river or something to wash our clothes in because they smell bad. You agree and promise to search the area around the cabin later. You gather all the cans you have in one of those plastic grocery bags that you found under the sink and pull some wire out of your backpack.

 

            Leading the way outside, you pass out cans, and show them how to make holes in the cans for the wire to weave through. Then you start tying them on the trees that surround the cabin. You make sure they are a little far off from the cabin to give a more advanced warning.

 

            The job is finished without much of a problem, but you swear you can hear laughing somewhere in the distance. It’s possible that you’re imagining it, but you don’t want to take risks. Taking risks means making mistakes and making mistakes means death. You direct the others inside and push the china cabinet in front of the door.

 

After, Jade starts going through drawers and cabinets, pulling out food that hasn’t gone bad and useful objects like matches, candles, and scissors. John finds a slightly melted Toblerone in a cabinet above the microwave and laughs. It was a great prize and you liked seeing John smile like that. It reminds you how things don’t have to always be depressing and sad all the time. Happiness remains even in the midst of darkness.

 

Nostalgia kicks in and you all agree to split it and eat it now. It’s kind of a bad idea, you know, but you haven’t had chocolate in a long time. You don’t regret it at all, though—it melts across your taste-buds sweetly in ways canned food never could. You even lick the chocolate off your fingers and no one minds—they think it’s a genius idea and copy you.

 

            “I’ve never tasted anything so good before,” Jade giggles and you feel a sort of warmth wash over your chest and you smile. You actually smile without a problem. It feels nice and your heart lifts—it’s amazing what some chocolate can do.

 

            You then come back to the food supply issue and your smile fades. “Yeah, well, we’re going to need to find a way to get food soon or else we’re going to run out.”

 

            “There’s a map in the drawer under the counter. We can go to one of the nearby towns and see if we can salvage anything from a store.” Jade even sounded unsure about her plan. Towns are overflowing with the Corrupted. More people to attack, less room for their prey to run. Besides most of the stores are probably already run dry from other people trying not to go hungry. It’s your only plan—it’s not like you can Google how to hunt or what berries aren’t poisonous. You wish that you weren’t such a city-guy.

 

            “I can go. I just need back-up.” Jade adds. You shoot her a concerned look, not feeling very comfortable with that idea. She breaks down quickly when they are near and it is surprising that she would volunteer like that. John nods. “I’ll come with you.”

 

            That just makes it even worse. John’s not the best when it comes to staying cool during a fight. Jade seems to consider that. But slowly, she nods. “Okay, it’s settled then. We just have to grab a map and Dave and Rose can stay here to watch the cabin.” Nothing sounds good or right about this plan, but Jade looks certain that she’s doing the right thing. You don’t question her. Offending her is not a good thing to risk.

 

            “We leave tomorrow morning.” She catches your eyes. There’s something in them that scares you. Confidence.


	2. Hamartithia

Dave

 

       Watching her go was worse than imagining her leaving. You badly wanted to grab the knife from her hand and pull her away from the door. You never did though and even now, you stand on the porch with Rose watching until John and Jade disappear into the thick trees. You hope they will come back through those trees.

       Rose looks extremely worried—she reminds you a lot of Ms. Lalonde. You don’t mention it, though. She doesn’t like to think about her mom.

      The sun peeks through the clouds and turns her hair into gold. She turns to look at you, her violet eyes meeting yours firmly. “And now we shall wait.”

 

John

      You are really nervous—you’re not really sure why you volunteered to go with Jade. You guess that you want to prove that you are actually useful instead of being an extra mouth to feed. Before you volunteered, you knew that could be your last time seeing Dave and Rose, but it had to be done. Jade seems comfortable, at least.

      She makes her way through the underbrush easily, ducking under branches and pushing other foliage out of the way. You’re less graceful: tripping over curling tree roots, pushing your way through branches and getting scratched wherever your skin shows. Jade is walking quickly—she wants to make it before it turns dark and then find shelter in the town. You just try to keep up while listening around you for anything suspicious.

 

    Hours drag on and sweat is clinging to your neck. The sun is hot and beats down on you when there is an opening between trees. It’s horrible and your mouth is growing dry and sticky. Once in awhile, Jade lets you drink from the water bottle, but not much. She doesn’t drink a lot either and her face is red. Earlier you helped her pull her hair up to get it off of her neck.

   Your lungs and legs ache, but Jade tells you that the town should be a few miles more. You smell it before you see it.

   The scent of rotting flesh, burning hair: Death’s perfume. Eventually, you see smoke billowing up towards the atmosphere and then a few buildings unfold across the horizon. From this distance, the buildings remind you of dominoes. They appear sturdy, but are easily overtaken. You stick to the trees and pick up the pace even more. Jade leads the way into the city and she becomes super focused on being alert. The town is more silent than you would have thought which is strange. You and Jade tie bandannas around your mouths and noses. It hardly helps the stench.

   You walk through alleyways littered with clothing and garbage. Blood takes the place of graffiti on the amber bricks of the buildings. Jade’s hand is tight on her knife as she approaches a door. Above the door, a small sign reads: Tom’s Grocery, Employees Only!

   She puts her ear to it for a few moments before opening it slowly. The lock is broken and inside it appears to be clear. You both walk in and start to observe the area lit up by large windows in the ceiling. It is the backroom and boxes are scattered everywhere. There’s glass on the floor and it crunches under the thick soles of your boots. Jade starts going through the boxes and shelves and you join her.  
   You are relieved to find food: four boxes of saltines, a bag of pretzels (all are probably stale), a bunch of canned produce, bags of nuts and trail mix, and (surprisingly) bottles of water. You also find a bunch of match boxes, batteries, and flashlights in the corner where a first aid box hangs on the wall (you already took out all the medical stuff). When Jade’s not looking you slip some chocolate bars you discovered into your bag. They will be a nice surprise to share with the others when you get back. Jade calls you over and holds up some bag of seeds.

   “We can plant these back at the cabin and maybe get some fresh food.” She puts them in her backpack. “Do you think this is enough for now?”

    You nod. Jade glances over your shoulder and frowns. “Did you spill milk?”

    Following her gaze, you spot a carton of milk on its side, spoiled milk pooling in the cracks of the stone floor. Flies haven’t gathered to feast on it yet.

    “U-uh no, I didn’t.”

    Jade’s eyes widen. “Crap.”

   You hear an intake of breath from across the storeroom, rattling and getting caught in the mucus-filled throat of its owner. The intake turns to a very low growl and both of you turn. Your heart is slamming against your chest, wanting to jump out and run away from here. Jade already has her knife out, holding it in front of her.

   The Corrupted is a woman with short, stringy, hair that clings together with grease and blood. Dirt is smeared across her face and your eyes find her lips—white bubbles over them and down her chin. It hits the floor in fat drops. You want to get sick, but instead you pull your knife out.

   Your movements are too slow. She attacks with an inhuman snarl, feet smacking against the floor as she comes towards you. She screams and bares her yellowed teeth. When she is in range, you slash out with your knife. Jade has the same idea, shakily diving forward and plunging the knife into the woman’s chest. The Corrupted screeches—bad, bad, bad! Noise will only attract more, oh god!

   Her face is near yours—it’s spotted with boils and other red marks. Jade rips the blade back, trembling, and the crazed look in the woman’s pale eyes are replaced with a blank stare and you can see your reflection in them before the body falls to the floor. Jade looks like she is on the verge of tears and she’s wiping blood off her hands onto her pants. Her hands are red, irritated by the hot blood.

  “Let’s get out of here before more show up.” Jade reaches the door quickly and opens it. Someone else is right outside of the door and Jade gasps, stepping back to close the door. A hand reaches out and stops the door from closing. You can’t see who it is.

   Jade slices forward with her blade.

 

 

Jade

      You aim for the thing’s arm that’s holding out the door, but it grabs your wrist and twists it back. You cry out. “John!”  
John goes and rushes forward, but you feel the grasp on your wrist falter and let you go.

      “Wait, what the hell?” he speaks. John stops and you look at the guy still holding your wrist, shocked. He’s not one of them.

      “No! What the hell to you!” you tear your wrist away, swiping your knife off the ground. “I thought you were one of the Corrupted!”

      “Of course not. I heard one of them hollerin’ here and came over to kill it off. Seems like you already took care of that. You’re a pretty strong girl, huh?” his voice is thick with a…Houston accent. You frown.

     “Yeah, I guess.” You step closer to John.

     “Who are you?” John interrogates.

     “I am Dirk.”

     “Just Dirk?” you echo.

     “Yeah, just Dirk.”

     “Where did you come from, Dirk?” John asks him, still holding onto his knife tightly.

      “Just up the block a bit. You?” Dirk steps inside and nudges the door shut with his foot. It’s easier to see him now that he’s standing in a patch of fading light. He has blond hair that’s tousled and spiked in random places. You figure he hit up the hair aisle before the food aisle when everyone was rushing around the grocery stores. In fact, you’re surprised that someone with hair that nice is even alive right now. He’s wearing black plants that are tucked into work boots and a dark orange hoodie. A katana is hooked across his back and it makes your stomach sink, reminding you of Dave so far away.

     “A couple miles away,” you answer and meet his ember gaze.

     “Why don’t we head to my place and we can have a better conversation.”

     You and John share glances and he shrugs. It’s getting dark. Maybe it’s the best thing to do for now. Dave would probably say “just get to a high place until it’s light out”, but he’s not here right now. You are in charge.

    “Sounds fine to me.”

 

     Dirk leads you and John farther down the alley, takes some turns and climbs up a fire escape. When you reach the top, he reels it up and he pulls open the window. He helps you in first and then follows John inside. You stand in the living room of the apartment and there are other people. Three others. They look at you and John with surprised glances.  
Dirk closes the window and gestures for you to sit on the couch. Both of you sit down and look at the others. Dirk sits next to John. “This is John and that is Jade. I found them after they took out the one screamin' down there.”

    The others smile and introduce themselves: the blonde girl is Roxy, the girl with sky blue glasses is Jane, and the boy with freckles similar to yours is Jake. They say how nice it is to talk to someone new and they invite you to stay the night to be safe. You’re glad that you decided to come because they are really friendly and you haven’t spoken to anyone besides John, Dave, and Rose in a very long time.

    It feels almost normal and you all talk about what you like--used to like--and it’s almost like the blood slowly drying on your pants isn’t really there. You think you will miss them tomorrow, but hopefully you can see them again. You and John sleep on the floor.

 

Jade

    You wake up in yet another different place. John’s sleeping next to you on the floor. His knee is pressed against your stomach and your back is against the couch. He’s snoring loudly and you can’t help but smile. You sit up and push your hair back.

   “Morning.” You glance over to where the accented voice came from—across the room in the kitchen. Jake is drinking something in a mug and reading a book. The room smells like coffee, which is surprising, but you assume that it’s what he’s drinking. It must be instant coffee.

   “Oh, good morning.” You stand and walk over, sitting on the stool next to his.

   “How did you sleep?” he looks up from his book and his dark pine eyes meet your emerald ones. You’ve heard that question a lot this past month. ‘Did you get any sleep?’ or ‘Were you able to get some good sleep?’. Lately, you’ve been able to sleep better than you used to.

   “Pretty well. You?” you reply.

   “I get more sleep than the others.” You think you’ve figured out his dialect. British maybe? “Are you setting out today?”

   “Yeah, we have friends waiting for us to get back.” He folds the corner of his book and sets it down on the counter. “Plus, I don’t really feel comfortable staying in towns.” They reek of death.

   “You…get used to the smell.” He answered, reading your mind. How could you get used to such a horrid smell? “You never did specify where you and your friends are currently living. It’s safer than here, I hope?”

   “Not exactly. It’s…a cabin. It is vulnerable, but we don’t know how to build a barricade around the fence. We don’t have the skills or the supplies.”

   “That’s not good. If one of them breaks in, they all break in.” he adjusts his glasses.

   “I know. We have a back-up plan though!” Okay. That’s a lie. You don’t have a back-up plan but whatever.

   “Well, that’s a little better.” He pauses, looking towards the window and then back at you. “We heard of a place across the state where we can go that’s safe. That’s our plan b. We are currently getting stuff together to make the drive over.”

   “Drive?” your eyebrow raises.

   “Yeah, we have a car.”

  “How do you have gas?”

  “We filled up multiple gallons before everything happened and threw them in the back of the car.”

  “I’m surprised no one has stolen it.”

   “It’s hidden, so that’s why.” Jake blinks. “Anyway, you and your friends could come with us. It’s safer to go in numbers. Also, the place is safe…there’s food, water, and medical help. It’s barricaded.”

   “Well, like you said, if one gets in, they all get in. If one person catches it then it gets spread. You can’t trust others anymore.” You bite your lip.

     “You trusted us.” Jake’s knee nudges yours. “You can trust us again.”

   “Y-yeah, well, it was either trust you or hang around waiting for them to attack us.” You lean your elbow on the counter. “I’m not the one in charge of the group anyway.”

    “Oh? The leader of the pack is back the cabin?”

   “Yeah, he is…,” you hesitate. “You can come with us to the cabin. But whatever he decides is going to be final.”

   “Alright. We can drive you back, then, and discuss it with him.” Jake smiles at you, the corner of his eyes crinkling.

   “Is it safe to drive? You would think it would make too much noise and draw too much attention.”

   “They can’t keep up. We’ve used the car before to make supply trips.”

   “F-fine.” You agree. You hope he’s right.

 

     A couple hours later, they are packed and everyone is ready to go. Roxy leads the way to the car, keys held tightly between her fingers. Dirk follows up the back as you walk down the alleyway and John is directly to your right. Jake’s in front of you and Jane’s behind you and for some reason, you feel like this group is more aware of what they’re doing. It makes you feel stupid, but your friends are still alive so you must somewhat know what you’re doing.

     After everyone packs up the car and gets in, Dirk starts the engine and backs out really fast. You grab the sides of the passenger seat underneath you even though you’re buckled up. When he pulls out, he slowly makes his way out to the street and then starts speeding down the road. You hold your breath, hearing and feeling the hum of the engine. You haven’t heard one in a long time. When every machine and car in the world stops, you notice it—you note the absent buzzing that used to serve as white noise to you. You hold the map and give him directions on how to get back to your cabin.

     It takes about an hour to get there. You see Dave and Rose run out onto the porch at the sound of the car and once Dirk is inside the fence, he brakes smoothly and everyone gets out. You run to Dave with a smile and he looks at you with confusion, but you also see a hint of relief in his eyes.

    “What’s going on?”

    “They know where we can go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally had chapter three up, but I realized that I posted the wrong draft, so I need to get the right one up. I apologize!! It will be up soon, I promise! (And it will be better than the other one haha).


	3. Rubicon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's try this again, shall we?

Dave

 

         “Where did you hear about this place again?” you haven’t let your guard down since they got here. You were shocked to see _other survivors_ jump out of _a car_ and you were even more disbelieving about them knowing of a “safe place”. You know that “safe” isn’t a thing anymore just like having a The Walking Dead marathon with your brother isn’t a thing anymore. But you listen to what they have to say. Jade is bouncing on her heels beside you and you almost tell her to go away because she’s stressing you out. This is a lot of pressure…take the risk of travelling with strangers to a strange place that might be your key to death or possibly a temporary sanctuary…or take the risk of remaining here out in the open where you will die off eventually anyway. You are picking from the card deck of death and you don’t want to gamble with lives without care.

        “Some people who have passed by. Trading partners.” Dirk answers you. You watch his face for a hint of anything dangerous: a twitch of an eyebrow or perking of the corner of his lips, a bead of sweat. You haven’t seen anything yet.

        “What city?”

        “Vernon Parish. About five hours from here. They’ve named the haven Trinity.” Where the heck is that?

       “Why would someone set up a haven there?” you were mostly inquiring to yourself. There’s hardly anything there…though maybe that’s the point?

       “Military base. Y’know: go to the guys with the big guns.”

       “That doesn’t seem safe—there’s probably a high population there. Disease is spread mo—.”

       “They’re researching a cure there and do weekly physicals for each refugee. Some of the people from Georgia CDC are working with ‘em.”

        You sigh deeply and rub your hand against your neck. “You haven’t been there, though, how can you be sure?”

       “I trust the people who told me about it. They came from around there.”

        “Just…just give us a minute.” 

       “No problem, man.” Dirk gives a thumbs up and steps back against the wall. You turn towards the only familiar faces in the room and nod towards the kitchen. They follow you and you sit in your chairs.

        “I think it’s a good idea, Dave! I mean at least for awhile. If it doesn’t turn out to be as promising as it seems to be we can turn around and come back.” Jade chimes.

       “What if it isn’t even there. We are going off some rumors here.” John points out, pushing his glasses up.

       “Yeah, I know…I was actually thinking…we take the chance.” You don’t sound certain.

       “We face similar risks to the ones here if we do choose to venture off there.” Rose’s eyes meet yours. “I feel as though there are actually more benefits in going there than staying.”

       “What about the fact that there are more people and illnesses spreads more easily when people are packed together?” you press the side of your hand to your forehead. The others share a hesitant glance, but shake their heads—take the risk.

       Everyone seems in favor of going. You tell your nerves to shut up. “So we go?”

       Each of your friends give a slow nod of their heads and stand. You follow them back to Dirk.

     “We’ll come along.” you announce.

       Dirk smiles. “Great. Get your stuff in the car and we’ll get goin’.”

 

Jade

            It is Jake’s turn to sit in the front seat and rattle off directions as Dirk drives on the outskirts of the trees. Driving on the highway isn’t a possibility due to rubble and broken down cars.

            You sit in the back of the van with John and Dave. Rose is with the other girls in the row in front of yours, conversing easily with them. You’re not really sure what they are discussing, but you think it might be about (ex)popular book series. You never used to be a big fan of books—you used to think that you would rather be the adventurer—you could think better than the main protagonist of a book, could strategize better, and execute plans better. You were wrong. You feel like you are in the pages of one of the few books you’ve ever read and you wish that you weren’t. You wish you were the one reading the pages and patronizing the protagonist for all of her mistakes.

            Dave has his rock out again and is making another dash. You think there are thirty-four now. He catches you staring and stashes it in his bag. John is arguing with Dave quietly about how the first Ghostbusters movie was better than the second (not that it matters anymore anyway) and Dave counters his words with examples of how the second was better. You lean your head against the seat in front of you, your hair curtaining your view of the car around you. It drapes over your knees. You feel Dave’s elbow against yours. It is cramped in the car and you feel slightly claustrophobic. You like open space because your mind likes to play all the things that could go wrong while you are trapped in a smaller space in front of you like a horror movie. The warning throb of an oncoming headache pulses inside your skull.

            You feel a hand on your knee, a familiar touch. “You okay?”

            Turning your head, you let your hair-curtain part so you can meet his eyes. “Yeah, just sleepy.”

            Dave ruffles your hair (which is in dire need of shampoo) lightly and pulls off your glasses. “Get some sleep. You don’t need to be awake right now.”

            You smile at him and lean into him. Sleep tugs you down into the recurrent darkness.

 

           

            Your eyes open to a room that is softly lit by a string of white Christmas lights. You look around at the poster-cluttered, pastel green walls and the cream carpeting. Rose is on the bed in her silk pajamas (she claimed they helped her sleep more easily) in front of your glowing laptop. You hesitate before sitting next to her, confused. You want to ask her where you are, but something’s not letting you so you stay there. Dave and John are on the opposite end of a video call, having a sleepover of their own, but of course couldn’t resist bothering the girls. Dave smirks on the other end, eyes hidden by darkly-tinted glasses.

            “There you are, Harley. I was wondering what you were doing off the screen.” A thoroughbred smartass caught in the action.

            “Nothing that concerns you!” you don’t control what you say, you find out. A giggle escapes your throat and your hand moves to flip him off briefly, but you don’t feel it. This is a memory. The night your life crossed the Rubicon.

            You don’t want to be here, but you are in this small room and you are stuck here in a replay of the past. Words are exchanged that you have already heard once before a month ago and then a pause as a staccato burst of gunshots echo from the other side of the camera and a few seconds later on your side. Screaming. Your grandpa runs in and slams your window shut and Rose looks at him in slight alarm. You look at him the same way and you already know what happens.

            “Five minutes. Pack necessities.” He is starting to sweat when he tosses you a bag. You start putting things in your bag as Rose watches, unsure what to do or say. You finish packing and Rose is typing quickly in the Skype messenger bar:

Jade Harley: We need to meet up as soon as possible, David. Something is going on and we are not entirely sure what.

Dave Strider: you dont say

Dave Strider: bro put the fucking fridge in front of the door

Dave Strider: we are stuck

Jade Harley: Hmm…we will come to you I suppose. We will knock three times.

Dave Strider: we will be waiting with bated breath lalonde

            Rose closes your laptop and both of you pad down the stairs quickly after getting dressed and putting on shoes.

            “Grandpa, what’s happening?” Your face grows pale. He has his gun out and he never takes it out unless he’s hunting. “G-grandpa?”

            “It will be fine and dandy,” he mutters, standing by the front door. “I promise.” The television is casting a sickly blue light in the kitchen where you had been eating pizza earlier. You think you can still smell it, but that’s not possible in a dream.

            “Yes, we have live footage of Houston currently…this is unbelievable! It seems like they have no control of themselves whatsoever and appear to be attacking other people. There’s no word out about what is going on from the government, but there are several reinforcements showing up now. People we suggest you stay indo—oh god! Oh my god!” Howling and then a piercing scream—the screen flickers to static. Your hands start to shake and Rose looks at you, worried. Grandpa’s mouth is set in a tight line.

            “G-grandpa we need to get to Dave and John!” you bite your lip. He frowns, considering it (he was friends with Dave’s brother). You want to scream at him to say no and not give you what you wanted like he always used to.

            “Hurry, get to the car then.” Grandpa turns off the television on the way to the garage and you all get into the jeep. He backs out and closes the garage. Out your window, smoke rises in multiple areas. Your block is already full of people running around, unsure and scared. It takes ten minutes to get out of the suburbs and into the city where Dave is. You are almost there—you see his apartment and your heart is beating against your chest. People are screaming and scattered everywhere and sirens are going off. Helicopters and police cars are unable to contain and control the masses of people. They are running from something, weaving in and out of traffic. You are at an intersection near the small parking lot behind the complex when your heart stops all over again. Glass shatters around you as your body’s weight is fighting against the seatbelt. You didn’t even have time to scream, blood trickles down your aching head.

            “J-jade, are you alright?” it’s Rose, her voice is small and sounds far away, but you glance over at her and she is closer than you thought. Her nose is bleeding and she has multiple scratches on her face. You are both suspended in the air, upside down, only held in by seatbelts. Rose is the first to grab onto one end of the seatbelt and unbuckle it with the other, rolling to the top of the car, which is underneath you, and you follow.

            “Grandpa?” You shake him and unbuckle him. The same pain, all over again, you wish you could drive one of the shards of glass through your skin to make yourself wakeup. Why are you remembering this? It hurts.

            “Grandpa, wake up, we gotta go get to John and Dave and his brother. Come on!!” Rose is next to you, her black lipstick smudged in several places and her eyeliner smeared in the corner of her eye. You put your head to his chest and listen closely, but there is nothing to be heard. That was the first gear that fell out of your clockwork.

            You remember grabbing his gun and using it to break the window, crawling out, grabbing Rose’s hand. Bodies push past you and you push through them and run into the apartment. The elevator is full, so you take the stairs. Someone glimpses at the rifle in your hands and snatches your grandpa’s gun from you and runs before you have time to grab them so you keep moving, keep moving. Three knocks and Dave is the first to greet you, fold you into his arms stiffly and tell you that everything will be alright. John and Rose can’t get in contact with their parents. The phone lines are dead. You remember the beep-beep-be—

 

            “Jade. Jadeeee! Ja-oh, now you’re awake. You were breathing really heavily.” John is looking at you, his hand on your arm. Your hair clings to the back of your neck in sweat fresh from the dream. “Are you alright?”

            “Y-yeah,” you squint at him. Where are your glasses again? “I’m alright.”

            John hands you your glasses. “We are taking a rest stop. We still have a couple hours left, so get out and stretch some.”

            You slide them on your face and sniff. “Alright.”

            You crawl over the seat and outside of the car where the others are grabbing snacks and walking around. Dave is there and you think back to your dream. You make your way over to him and he offers his hand. You take it, starting to feel a little better and less shaken up.

            Everyone starts walking cautiously. “Bad dream?” Dave whispers. You nod.

            “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Dirk

            You walk off deeper in the trees while the others talk so you can do what you gotta do. This road trip is taking longer than expected, probably due to the fact that you have to keep dodging trees and rocks. Dead leaves cover the mud on the ground beneath your feet and you hear your boots squish as you make your way over to a tree. You lean your arm against the tree and pause because it landed in something sticky and warm. Quickly, you draw it back.

            “Shit.” Blood. Fresh, too. You step back and observe the area, tracing it to its source with footsteps, trampled brush, and more blood. Stopping in your tracks, you realize that the hunter is still there. You frown and step back slowly, so slowly, hand gripping the handle of your katana. You can’t take your eyes away from it, though, it’s heavy, ragged breathing as it tears into its prey—an older man who just couldn’t get away fast enough. Rivulets of scarlet are dripping from its chin and neck and it makes you feel sick. You duck behind a tree, gradually moving away.

            “Dirkkkk!?” Oh god. Roxy. What was she thinking calling out like that?

            A snarl comes from the opposite side of the tree you’re behind. You swallow and sneak a glance. It’s on its feet now, head cocked to the side and twitching. You hear your name again and it hears it too and it takes off running towards the sound, sniffing and snorting. Shit, shit, shit. You take off towards your friends, blade out, ducking and dodging your way. You hear it—it’s close to you, but it’s also close to your friends and you aren’t going to let it hurt them. You push out of the bushes into the clearing at the same time the Corrupted does and you let out a yell as you run towards it. You think you’re the only one who is willing to actually run towards them.

            You kick out at it, boot hitting the hard bone of its leg, and it falls with a screech. You hear noises of surprise from the others, a grunt from Jake as he fumbles for his pistol, a cry from Jade, and a profanity from Dave as he steps in front of his friends. You can’t pay much attention to them, though, because the Corrupted is struggling underneath you and letting out a high-pitched screeched. It hurts your ears and it sends a jolt of alarm through you. It doesn’t feel right to you—you’ve heard it before once on Animal Planet. You slit its throat, ignoring the splatter of blood that finds its way onto your pants.

            “Get in the van, _now_.” You sheath the sword and push them into the car, closing the doors and getting in the driver’s side, igniting the engine.

            “What’s going on? Are there more?” Jane’s fingers curl gently on your seat as you start the car and start driving.

            “There will be if we don’t get out of here.” You answer. Too late. You already see some pushing their way out of the trees and seeing the car. God damn. It’s also really hard to drive in these trees…

            You make a last second decision to pull out of the dense trees onto the shoulder of a freeway. Several cars are backed up bumper to bumper, some even on top of others. It might look like a typical traffic accident backup except they’re not running. You almost imagine the sound and the heat of the vehicles as you see them, but you’re pulled back into focus at the motorcycle lying across the shoulder. You dodge it quickly, picking up speed. Your hands are gripping the wheel tightly and your heart is beating too much for your liking. The Corrupted are in close pursuit, but you’re certain (you think) that you can outdrive them. Jake is looking out the side mirror, running a hand through his hair anxiously.

            “Dirk, we’re almost out of gas. I never got the chance to refill it before we got in.”

            You glance down and find that he’s right and you mumble a curse under your breath. Your flooring isn’t helping either—burning off the gas way faster than you were when you were going slower earlier.

            “Are we gonna have to take them, you think?” Roxy’s voice to the right.

            “Roxy, there are four of them!” Jane shot her a look, more concerned than irritated.

            “But there are eight of us!” Roxy raises an eyebrow. “We can do it, we’ve done it before.”

            “We had guns last time, though, and Callie.” Jake frowned. “Now all we’ve got are blades and a pistol.”

            The engine sputters.

            “Dirk, stop the car.” Dave groans. “Let’s get this over with.”

            “Dave!” John squeaks.

            “Get ready to get out and fight.” You slam on the brakes and park the car, unlocking it. Everyone jumps out and pulls out their weapons again. It’s almost pathetic though. Five knives pretty much the length of your hand, one pistol, and two swords. The Corrupted don’t hesitate.  They pick out the ones they want to prey on first and go for them.

 

Rose

            You smell the rancid stench of blood and body odor (the common perfume of the Corrupted) before the figures get close. It makes your lunch churn rather uncomfortably in your stomach, but you ignore that. You grip your blade, still a foreign iciness to the feeling of it between your fingers, and you wait. You wait because it is foolish to run out into battle without a quick analysis beforehand.

            One of the four is an amputee, right arm missing, and another is missing an eye. They are drawing closer and you start to breathe through your mouth. The other two appear to have no disabilities and are approaching at an alarming rate. The fastest launches itself towards a shaking Jade, grabbing her arm. You move into action, going to her aid. You see Dave and Roxy in the corner of your eye helping Jane take out One-eye (who is much more powerful than you perceived). John is with Jake fighting the one lagging behind, Dirk stabbing through the other fast one. They are all making horrid noises; especially the one Jade is kicking in a last attempt at getting away from it. You stab it in the back of its head several times, gritting your teeth. You experience the unpleasant sensation of blood droplets splashing onto your face as you rip the knife out and push the Corrupted away from Jade. She looks sick and guilty (you’re not sure why she looks guilty, maybe you can find out later), but her eyes widen as she looks behind you.

            “Turn around!” she cries out.

            Something grabs your shirt and pulls you back with a snarl. You gasp and try to spin around. It doesn’t work and instead your dirty canvases cause you to trip. The fall to the ground is anything but graceful and ends with a heavy body on top of yours. You are pinned. Jade is above you, but she is tensed up and staring. Well this is utterly fantastic.

            Its smell is even more unbearable when its right in front of your nose and you strain your head back. It laughs which sends a sickening wave of nausea throughout your body, especially when it discovers that your neck is as soft as it looks and you struggle, try to move your legs—where did this one come from? There were only four! You counted!—you feel its reeking breath over your neck and face—a shiver down your spine. Teeth just barely trace your neck before the weight is pushed off—you’re free! You can move—you roll to your knees—Jake is over you, sweat on his nose, helping you to your feet. Everyone else is just now finishing their kills and Dirk is running to the car, grabbing a cherry red container and filling the tank. You see blood dripping down the side of your nose and you wipe it off and turn around. Jade is running into the forest and Dave catches a glimpse of that from beside Roxy and takes off after her with a shout. Everyone watches after them with a surprised and worried look. You sigh, wiping your blade in the grass under your feet. Jade is still struggling with facing them. You can comprehend why, since you were with her when they caused the worst, but in your opinion, fear doesn’t necessarily assist one in battle when it’s extreme enough to make you freeze up. You will discuss that with her later, though. You head back to the car after thanking Jake. Having your life flash before your eyes is not enjoyable and you hope you won’t have to experience that again.

 

            “Where did they take off to? We can’t stay here for much longer.” Dirk is speaking to John. You listen from inside the car. Roxy and Jane slide in next to you.

            “Jade gets sort of sick when she is around the Corrupted. That’s…uh…probably what she’s doing now. Don’t worry they will be back in a few minutes.” John reassures him.

           

Jade

            Your mouth tastes disgustingly like bile and your nose wrinkles up as you crawl away from the bush. At least no one was around this time (last time was very embarrassing). You catch your breath and lean against a rock a few meters away, the stone sharp against your back.

            You didn’t mean to run, you just saw the blood and white of its teeth and the blisters and a shudder went down your spine—the next thing you knew you were sprinting into the trees, the threat of regurgitating your lunch and the quivering of your stomach pushing you. You ran! You stupid wuss!

            Tears sting the corners of your eyes, but no—letting them stream down your cheeks is not an option. You shouldn’t be crying—the others should be crying because they have to put up with your sorry butt. You feel sorry for them and wonder why they do.

            “We stick together.”

            You jerk your head up, face-to-face with Dave. He is slightly out of breath and a tiny rivulet of sweat is making its way down his temple and over his cheekbone. “We’re gonna work on this fear of yours, okay? First we’re gonna start by having you get your pretty butt off the filthy ground and getting it into the van. Go.” He grabs your wrist and pulls you to your feet and you follow him back to the car.

            “So when we get there…what are we gonna do? Just walk up to the place and be like ‘hey, we swear we aren’t infected, let us in!” or what?” John asks to no one in particular.

            “We’re gonna park the car and walk to their pickup spot.” Dirk answers, his eyes not leaving the road.

            “Pickup spot?” John’s eyebrows raise over the scratched frames of his glasses.

            “Yeah, they got these bus stops set up where they drive charter buses to pick people up who stand by them. Apparently.”

            “Oh…” The ‘apparently’ hangs in the air like a fog and no one wants to see what’s on the other side of that fog because it’s too heavy and thick that anything could be there—or nothing could be there.

            You glance over next to you and find Dave asleep, snoring softly. He looks like a toddler when he sleeps, but when his eyes are open he grows up in a matter of seconds.

            There’s not much time before you stop again—you awake to John’s fingers in your hair (you had fallen asleep with your head on his lap) and his voice in your ear. You pinch Dave’s cheek and wake him up after you crawl over the seat. He gives you a look of annoyance when he opens his eyes, but gives you a playful push when you both get out of the van.  

            “We are half a mile from where the stop should be. Grab your stuff and let’s get walking.” Dirk tosses bags out and locks the car (not that locking it will do much to keep people out). Roxy leads the way and about five minutes later, you see it. A wooden stake with a cardboard sign in the ground, on it a drawing of a bus and a word. Excitement burns in your chest. You see a single, 7-lettered word painted on the sign, bold and red and right here. Trinity.


	4. Broken Promise Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little short because this one might be slow paced?? I'm trying to get to the action-y stuff.

Jade

            The air moving through your lungs is warm and stuffy, the papery mask making it hard to breathe. The bus is warm too—there are quite a lot of people on it besides you and your friends. Everyone looks tired and beaten down, some even look crazy, rocking back and forth and shaking (you’re surprised they were allowed on the bus). The seat under you is sticky with a film of humidity and ripped, stuffing peeking out like the sun coming through the clouds. Your palms stick to it as you wait to arrive. You are worried—the soldier on the bus told you that those above the age of 15 have a chance of being drafted into their still-forming army—a sort of clean-up crew or scavenging crew. You don’t want to become moldable clay that they can manipulate into their own masterpiece of vengeance and steel—you’ve heard of it happening before from your grandpa. First they scare you and bend you until you’ve gone zombie and then they give you the power to injure and then they give you the order to injure when they find you ready.

            Everyone else has their jaws set, too, wringing their hands, rubbing their forehead. Dave is across the aisle from you and you glance at him. He looks back at you. His eyes are calm, but you can sense his discomfort. Even Dirk looks on-edge. He wasn’t told this. The only one who looks calm is Roxy and you can’t really tell what Rose is thinking. Her facial expression is blank.

            You feel warmth between your fingers and you look down to find Jake’s fingers filling the spaces. He winks at you and squeezes your hand. “You’ll be fine and dandy.”

            The phrase makes you go stiff, but you just nod quickly. “Y-yeah, probably!”

            Jake doesn’t seem to notice your reaction, but he does squeeze your hand again. You don’t let your hand slip from his, but you do turn your gaze away and try to think of anything and everything except your grandpa. You can’t think about that.

            The bus sharply stops and the soldier stands up and makes sure everyone gets off the bus in a single file line, handing cards to each person as they step off.

            “If you are under 15, find the red circle. 15-21 find the green circle…” the soldier gestures towards the circles and everyone follows his orders. You’re tempted to slip into the red circle—you swear you could pull it off—you could look at least thirteen or fourteen with a widening of your already-wide eyes and pulling a vulnerable act…

            You cross over a green line. A bigger man steps in the middle of the circles onto a platform. “Hello, everyone! I’m Major Will! Welcome to Trinity. Well, you aren’t at Trinity just yet, friends. We just need to run a few tests and go over some rules, et cetera, et cetera. It won’t take too long.”

            He has an angular face and you’re pretty sure he should be wearing a bigger jacket because the seams are being tugged where his muscles bulge. His hair is shaved close to his head. “Rule number one, you all gotta listen to your authorities and do what we say because your safety is one of our top priorities. Rule number two, you need to help out around the community—you’ll learn more about that later. When you came off the bus, you were handed a card. When that number is called, you will step forward and walk into one of the colored doors behind me!” his gaze is surprisingly welcoming, along with his smile.

            You flip over your card. S-Twenty-One. This is going to take a while.

            Major Will calls out numbers and door colors and people either walk or limp through the doors. You don’t see them come back into this room. Dave is number S-Ten and Jane is number S-Fourteen. Dirk is number S-Nineteen and by the time his number is called, only Roxy is the only person in the room that you recognize. You are speaking with her when you hear the voice call ‘S-Twenty-One, Red Door!’ and you smile at her slightly before pushing through the steel door. You wonder if they will use their alchemy on you on this side of the wall—turning you into from a softer stone into a hard, tough, unbroken-but-bent metal—their form of gold.

            You emerge into a bright, white room where a Doctor Trisha with a purple mask similar to yours takes your vitals, including your temperature. Then she makes you bathe and wear a purple slip with white polka-dots on it that ties in the back. Your clothes are thrown into a waste hamper. The bath part was actually appreciated, though. When was your last bath?

            She sits you in a chair that has an arm in front of your chest. She takes your arm and flips it over on the little plastic-covered table-thing and you watch as she rips open the package of a sanitation wipe, the scent of disinfectant stinging your nose. She obviously isn’t the type of doctor to tell you what’s going on. You feel the cold, scratchy fibers of it against your skin and it hits you what she’s doing. You swallow hard and squeeze your other fist. Blood test.

            Doctor Trisha takes orange elastic and ties it around your arm above the elbow and prepares the needle. You don’t feel much but a numb pinch when it goes in, which surprises you. Your blood moving into a tube still sickens you out enough to look away. After she bandages your arm, she starts asking questions.

            “Full name and age?” she asks as she puts the tubes of blood into a bag. She uncaps a sharpie.

            “Jade Annabeth Harley. 17.” You bite your lip as she scribbles on the bag and places it into a metal vent-looking thing, pressing a button. The bag disappears. She also writes it down on a clipboard as she sits in front of you.

            “Where did you come from?”

            “Houston, Texas, miss.” Your words are muffled by a new purple mask covering your mouth. The elastic is causing your ears to ache. She gives you a sympathetic glance—the only expression she has given you this whole time.

            “How many people did you come with and what are your relations with them.”

            “Seven of my friends, miss.” You watch her scribble on her clipboard. The pen’s scratching fills the silence.

            “Have you received any injuries, such as cuts, bites or illnesses before your arrival at Trinity?”  She watches your face. You try to think back to when you ever got sick or hurt. You remember the car accident and the cuts it gave you. The cuts are the only injuries you can remember.

            “I got a few cuts from broken glass, but they healed awhile ago.” She furrows her eyebrows and writes that down. “I kept them clean…”

            She didn’t really hear that, already asking another question. “Do you have any allergies to anything?”

            “Uh…cats.” Doctor Trisha records that, too, and then seems satisfied.

            “Your test results will be given to you after orientation, as well as your daily physical schedule. Please exit that door to the left, get dressed in the clothes provided, and then exit the next door. Then find a seat and wait patiently.” She watches as you grab your backpack, leaving the room. You get dressed in tight-fitting clothes (they didn’t have your size): a plain white shirt, black jeans, and white canvases. Then, you exit that room into a bigger room that’s stuffy and packed with people. You try to find someone you know, but to no success. There’s an empty seat towards the back that you sit in and wait until the room goes dim as blinds are closed and a small light is cast onto Major Will who stands behind a podium.

            “Hello again! Welcome to the orientation. After this you can get started with your new life here at Trinity. But first, some starting information. We will pass out papers afterwards, so don’t leave until you get them. Also, don’t ask questions until I’m finished speaking.” He gestures towards some men in fatigues around a table covered in stacks of papers. “As you all know, this is not a free-for-all base, this is a community where you need to work for your rations and your keep. If you don’t think you can help around here and you have the ability to be helping, you can walk back out those doors because we can’t have you sitting around leeching off others.”

            “How to earn your keep, huh? Well, that’s downright simple! If you are above 15, you can join our boot camp where you’ll be trained to kick some butt and then you will help gather supplies or secure areas, etc. Or you can get a job around here, passing out rations, cooking, cleaning, building, whatever. There’s extra information in the packets.” He clears his throat. “The laws here are the same as the laws of the United States of America. If you aren’t sure about what those laws are or you decide to test them, we will willingly show you. We don’t tolerate very much, and we do have a jail which throwing you in is not a problem…”

            You pretty much tune out the rest, a light hum over the buzzing in your head. You pick up bits and pieces. Room assignments can be made afterwards—the more people in your group, the bigger the place. You’re unsure how you’re supposed to get one when you have no idea where your group is right now—probably scattered around in this room. You look around again.

            You catch sight of platinum hair and you think it’s Rose, but the girl turns her head and it’s not Rose. You sigh, but then you catch sight of bold-framed glasses and dark hair and sure enough it’s John wearing similar clothes. He’s listening to Major Will and doesn’t notice you staring. You decide to wait until the end and go over to him.

            The speech is over. He finished it with a reminder about picking up our paperwork from the men at the tables. You jump up and grab John’s elbow. His head turns and his ocean eyes brighten. “Hey! I haven’t found the others yet.”

            “Me neither,” you retort and look around, continuing to hold onto his arm so you don’t get lost as the swarm of people pushes forward towards the tables. It is slight chaos despite Major Will’s yells about staying single file.

            John eventually pulls Roxy and Jane over who also have Jake and Rose and Dirk pops out of the crowd and makes his way over, but still no Dave. You worriedly look around. Roxy, being the loudest, calls his name out a couple times. Finally, he comes out of a crowd of people, pushing through, and puts a hand on your shoulder. Relief fills your chest. “Let’s go.”

            All eight of you find a table and gather a folder full of papers that we ‘must go through once we get to our home’ (which is a condo, tightly packed with cots for everyone) and that if anyone got drafted they must report here tomorrow. The thought of that makes you a little sick, but Dave steers you out of the large room with a firm hand on the small of your back. The condo is found with a map and everyone picks cots, though there is one queen bed in the back room. You will take turns sleeping on it. The kitchen is unsurprisingly empty and the bathroom is of course not functioning, but it will be fine. This is home now.

            You all sit down and go through your files.

John

            You weren’t drafted. It sends a wave of worry away, but it comes back because that means that at least someone else got drafted. You scan the others’ faces and you can tell who did get drafted. Fidgeting fingers and the biting of a lower lip. The twitch of a jaw. Grinding of back teeth. Fingers pushing hair back repeatedly.

            You pretend not to notice. But pretending doesn’t cure a situation.

            “Who got in?” Jane looks around. The question sprouts an even heavier silence and you are reminded of moldy bread.

            “Not me.” Dirk puts his file down on the coffee table.

            “I didn’t get in either.” You murmur quietly and Rose chimes in with a “Nor did I.”

            Jane eyes Roxy who shoots her a nervous glance. “I didn’t get in, Roxy.”

            “I did, though, Janey.” Roxy smiles, “It will be alright, though. You know I’m good at roughing people up.”

            Of course it wouldn’t require just roughing people up, everyone knows that, but doesn’t say that. Pretend all you have to do is throw a few punches.

            “Seems like I will be joining you, Ms. Lalonde.” Jake speaks up and gives a smile. The usual charm in it is toned down to 30%.

            Dave gives a slight nod and tosses his file down. Everyone looks at Jade. Including Dave who gives her a fiery glare as if daring her to say it. It being she got drafted. She doesn’t meet his gaze and instead looks at the quivering paper in her hand.

            “I guess I’m coming, too.” Jade doesn’t try to smile and instead focuses herself on going through her other papers. Everyone shares anxious looks and Dave leaves the room.

            You don’t move from your seat and go through your papers, too. At least everyone’s blood tests came back clean and no one was infected or sick. That could change quickly, though, if things don’t go as planned. Which they haven’t already. You are all supposed to stick together, but now it will be hard.

            Half an hour later, you wonder where Dave went off to—you hope he’s not causing trouble. You stand up and open the door, but run smack into him.

            “Dave? Where were you?”

            “At the training camp headquarters.”

            “Why?”

            “I was discussing something with Major Will.” He seems to be the one people go to for questions.

            “Discussing what…?” you shoot him a look as you step back to let him in.

            “General concerns.” Of course he gives you a vague answer. He shrugs. You decide to let it go. Dave sits down as Roxy returns with Dirk with this week’s rations (freebie cards!) in their baskets and stock the kitchen to partial fullness. You eat food cold, everyone too tired to find a fire to use outside. Bedtime also comes early, though, you’re not ready to say hello to the morning of farewells.  

Dave

            You push your cot against Jade’s and slide into it. It’s not the most comfy of beds, but it is comfy enough. You won’t be sleeping in it for long and you hope the training camp’s beds are more comfortable (you doubt it). You pull your blankets up to your chest and listen to her breathing for a moment. It’s uneven. The blankets are pulled over her head so you poke her. She turns and looks at you.

            “How are you feeling?”  

            “I’m fine.” She closes her eyes and lets in a shuddering breath and you pull her arm towards you, running your thumb over the bottom side of her wrist. She calms down more and moves closer.

            “We’re not going to get separated, I promise.” Her skin is soft under your thumb and her pulse throbs intensely. You figure it’s anxiety. “No one’s going to get hurt either.”

            “These days promises are broken pretty easily,” she mutters.

            “That’s why they’re even more important to keep now. Keeping promises is what keeps us together. They mean trust and when two people trust each other it’s like a circle is binding them.”

            “Huh?”

            “Like, there’s no start, and there’s no end—not that you can find anyway. It just goes on forever, an infinity of trust and—”

            She smacks you with her pillow. Ouch. “You need to sleep. I have no idea what you’re even talking about.”

            You roll your eyes, but fall silent, meeting her eyes. She looks down at your neck and then closes her eyes before putting her head there under your chin. You ignore the fact that her hair keeps getting in your mouth every few seconds as you stare up at the ceiling. You know you’re going to have to keep that promise in fear that if you don’t—if you let her down—you will let a part of yourself down. You will have to be on top of things—defending her and yourself from moves that haven’t even been played yet.

             If the knight falls from the board, the queen does too.  

 


	5. Eccedentesiast

FALL

Jade

            Outer wall duty. Again.

            Your squad hasn’t been assigned any missions that require leaving the zone and you are getting a little stir-crazy. There’s not much to do around here except shoot straggling Corrupted, watch people starve, and watch illness spread. Oh, and don’t forget the fights you’ve gotten into with people who blame you for the low rations. With winter coming soon, things aren’t going to well. At least you get extra rations (which might be part of the problem).

            You wrap your gloved fingers around the corroded rungs of the ladder leading up to the top of wall built of faded shipping containers that were moved over from a warehouse months ago. When you get to the top, you hear banging on the metal beneath you and snarls. You glance over towards your partner who asks, “How many can you see down there?”

            You give a half-smile and shake your head, “Not enough to waste ammo on.”

            “Well, the number has been increasing lately.”

            “Yeah, inside and out.” You swing your legs over the edge and he does the same. “Ready? You get that one and I’ll handle these two.”

            “I don’t know, Private. Are you sure you can handle two?” he teases and you roll your eyes.

            “Shut up.” You push off and land with a soft grunt onto the pavement. He follows your move and goes to do his job. You do yours.

            Gritting your teeth, you grab one of them by the collar and hurl it towards the shipping container, watching it go cross-eyed as your blade finds a path through the middle of its forehead. You rip the knife back and do a 180, slashing out and cutting the other Corrupted throat as it’s reaching for you. It lets out a bloody gurgle—which you gag at even though that was the best Corrupted-throat-slitting you’ve done so far—and falls in a heap at your boots. You kick the blistered body off of them and turn around. “Good job! Now we gotta haul these nasty things to the burning pile.”

            He nods and starts dragging his victim and one of yours towards the burning pile which is on the other side of the wall. You grab the last one’s legs and start pulling them through grass and fling it into the pile where your other squad members are pouring gas over. It’s absolutely disgusting and it steadily grows in height every morning. It stinks—similar to the smell of the mostly abandoned towns and cities you’ve travelled through before—and fills the blue sky with black and gray plumes of smoke. Once you’ve dropped them off, you tug your scarf up over your nose, preferring to breathe in stale air instead. It doesn’t really help you not smell the scent—you’ll still smell it when you go to shower tonight—but it helps to not breathe in ashes.

            You nod towards Dave on the other side of the pile and he waves. You turn and start walking back towards the side of the wall you came from. Your boots step over the word Trinity spray-painted on the black asphalt and hook on the ladder. You climb up and your partners already there, shotgun in his hands. Until lunch break, you’ll be standing here keeping watch over the wall and then after that you switch with another squad and hand out ration cards or watch the streets.

            “We haven’t had anyone new come in a long time, huh.” You look out towards the horizon.

            “No. The buses always show up empty.” He answers.

            “Sometimes I wonder if we’re the last.”

            “We’re not. There are other quarantine zones and havens out there full of people like ours is.” He looks at you.

            “Ours won’t last much longer. Winter’s coming and supplies is pretty much at an all-time low. A lot of people are going to get sick this winter.” You lean against a wooden crate. “We gotta be careful on street duty. I keep hearing stories about members of other squads getting attacked and provoked.”

            “I think I heard something like that, too,” he frowns. “Guess we gotta be careful. They have even started catching onto how we get more rations than they do.”

            Your fists clench. “Yeah, well, if they want increased rations, then they can join the stupid team. ‘We don’t accept leechers’, my ass.”

            “God, you get so worked up about that. It’s not that big of a deal.”

            “I’m just tired of having to listen to stories about them complaining. I want to go on a supplies mission, not sit on this wall.”

            “We’re all turning eighteen soon—we’ll get there, trust me. I can’t believe you’re so eager to be running around out there with those things. From what Dave said you used to flip out at the sight of them.”

            “Yeah, well, it’s different now.” You smile slightly.

            “How come?”

            “I don’t know. I’m not really scared anymore—I just don’t care. They are annoying! Like flies.”

            “They’re more dangerous than annoying.” He points out.

            “Whateverrrr.” Your grip on your rifle tightens. “I can deal with them now.”

            He falls silent, grey eyes calculating.

            “He worries you know.” He says slowly. “He is always telling me to make sure you don’t do anything reckless.”

            You feel your cheeks flare up and you turn towards him. “What? You’re being his _spy_?”

            “N-no way, chill. He just told me not to let you get hurt!” he looks a little scared. Well, you would look frightened too if you were him.

            “I understand his reasons, but…why did you agree to it?” you raise an eyebrow at him.

            “Uhh…well he’s giving me…extra rations, but it’s also not that big of a deal.”

            You let out an angry sigh and sit down. Gunshots fire in the distance.

            “Oh god.” You murmur. “I think we’re gonna need another squad up here.”

            He comes up next to as you stand up. “That’s a lot.”

            “Yeah, lets radio this in.” you grab your walkie-talkie and press the button. “Squad 2 is calling for backup at Wall 4 Section B. I repeat we are _calling for backup_. Huge mass on its way.” You clip it back onto your vest and rest your rifle on the wooden crate. It presses into your shoulder as you lean into it, bracing yourself for the kick. Aim, hold your breath, fire. Aim, hold your breath, fire. Your partner does the same.

            “When the heck is backup getting here?” you keep firing.

            “My question is: where did all these guys come from?”

            “A city?” you are unsure yourself but the only thing that matters is that they don’t overrun the wall.  

            “I have no idea. I slightly doubt that, though.”

            “Another zone?” you keep firing.

            “I don’t think there are any nearby!” he shouts over the gunfire. The mass is gradually thinning out. Relief tugs at the tension in your chest.

            The other squad finally arrives and falls into place next to you, firing. You catch a glimpse of Jake among them and he catches your eye for a brief moment. He doesn’t look very good. He’s been giving most of his rations to Jane, who’s currently sick. You never say anything—you would do the same thing for John or Rose or Dave.

            Your ears still pound even after the mass is cleared and you give your rifle over to the next look-out squad for your squad to head in for a brief lunch. You get your food ration and sit next to Dave. He is starting to bug you, always looking at you with that concerned look. Pretending that you don’t notice, you start eating.

            “Did you get the news from Dirk?” he questions.

            “What news?” you catch his gaze.

            “They know what’s wrong with Jane…” he trails off.

            “What does she have?” you put your fork down.

            “Typhoid.” He sighs and rubs his forehead.

            “That’s curable, though!” your hand finds his knee.

            “It’s only curable if you have the medication for it.” Dave retorts bitterly.

            “Of course.”

            “They said there’s a chance she can get better without them— _maybe_ —but then there’s also a chance of her relapsing.”

            “How did she get it?”

            “She swallowed the water from the river on accident when they were getting cleaned up.”

            “We’re lucky no one else swallowed it then,” you finish eating and then head out to the ration center which is also in the center of the zone.

            Dave stays by your side as you both pass out the ration cards as people show their cards. You wear your scarf over your nose while you do this job—you don’t want to risk getting sick. A lot of the people here are sick and you have been lucky so far—you know that your luck will run out at some point.

            Among the lines, you overhear many conversations—comments and remarks that you would rather not hear. You hear these whenever you’re in the streets, though. Plots of rioting, rising against the “rather fat” soldiers. Compared to their sickly frames, you would consider yourself fat, too. You can only barely see your hip bones pushing against your skin when you pull your pants on each morning.

            You look over a woman and her child’s cards and pass them back along with their pink ration slips. They say thank you and you don’t respond. You’re more focused on what’s happening behind the still-forming line. A man is twitching as he walks and you observe a wave of blisters that has spread over the top of his collar and up across his cheek. Corrupted. Or at least recently. The young man waiting for his ration in front of you is getting impatient, flinging his card in front of your face. You look up at him and draw your revolver. He lets out a noise of surprise, along with multiple surrounding people (and a comment from Dave). You push past him and over to the twitching guy. You stop in front of him. He grunts at you.

            “Sir, you need to go to the medical headquarters!” Everyone nearby is watching. “Sir?”

            His twitching gets worse and he looks you straight in the eyes. “Shoot me.”

            “What?” you bite your lip. He hasn’t completely gone yet.

            “Shoot me— _please_!” he moans. The crowd shifts nervously. Your stomach shifts, too. Why? You were planning on shooting him—but not now that you know that he isn’t totally consumed by the infection. He’s still there—still sane. You’ve never killed someone before.

            “No, I can’t do that, sir.” Your fingers are still grasping the revolver and they are beginning to shake. “I can accompany you to the medical headquarters.”

            “I-I don’t want to go there. I don’t want them to experiment on me! I don’t want to become one of those—!” he starts to cry. To your surprise, he grabs your arm and pulls it up so that the revolver is against his covered head. You’re going to be sick. “Pull it.”

            Those around you start shouting at you.

            “Do it—he will only spread the infection more!”

            “What a monster—you’re actually going to kill him? He could be tested on for a cure!”

            “Yeah, I guess the Corrupted aren’t the _only monsters around here_!”

            “Pull it, please, do it now. I am miserable!” the man’s voice is raspy and he’s shaking more and more. You inhale a quivering breath and gently pull the trigger. Blood splatters on the lenses of your glasses and your jacket and the man slumps to the ground. Your heart is pound-pound-pounding and so is the crowd as they are gathering around you and the dead infected man. A hand grabs your ponytail and jerks you back. Something smashes against your stomach at the same time. You gasp and the revolver goes skittering across the cement. A short man picks it up.

            “You gonna hold her while I shoot?”

            “Yeah,” a voice next to your ear. “She’s just as bad as those things—might as well be one. Maybe if she were, this wouldn’t hurt as much as it’s going to.”

            The man with your revolver is angry. “Maybe they will finally get the message that we’re through with their shit!”

            “Let me go!” you struggle. How is he so strong? Oh god, oh my god. Your elbow smashes into his side but he’s not moved. Instead, his hand wraps around your throat. You gag and pull at his fingers. His other hand is squeezing your arm tight enough to leave a bruise. You’re panicking—begging your head to clear—but it won’t. Your vision is fading out—black at the edges and stars dotting the middle—and no matter how much you gasp for air, no oxygen fills your lungs. Why is no one helping? Where’s Dave? You don’t want to die like this.

            You hear a gunshot, but you feel no pain—there was no way shorty missed—he’s too close. The taste of blood is blanketing your tongue and you start to choke on it. Another gunshot and the grip on your throat is no longer there. You fall to your knees and then onto your face. You cough up the blood and breathe little gulps of air, but your vision is not returning and your heart is not calming. Your nose and your tongue are bleeding. You feel hands on you, turning you over and pulling you onto their lap. You can barely tell who it is through your blurred eyesight. Dave. _Dave_.

            “Dave…” Everything dims.

 

 

            Dave’s in front of you, but you aren’t leaning against of him. He just pulled away from a hug and is now touching your face. You flinch—but you don’t feel pain? (What’s going on?) His brother is behind him, safety kit in hand—it is faded and has obviously been used a lot. (Oh, this again? Fantastic.) Dave sits you down and rips open sanitation wipes, dabbing your face. Rose is telling Bro something…you strain to hear, but you catch something about your grandpa and Bro pushes his way in front of the refrigerator and out the apartment door. John is helping Rose with her arm—it has a huge gash on the top side. Her eyes are closed tightly. You hear sirens outside and you want to close your eyes, too.

            “It’s going to be okay, Jade.” His thumb pushes a tear off your cheek. “We’re going to get out of here. We just have to wait for Bro to get back—he knows where to go.”

            “My grandpa’s dead.” You don’t even register what you’re saying. Sadness takes control of your words and speaks for you. Dave’s eyes meet yours behind his shades, worried. “He’s gone.”

            “Jade, I know, just…,” he trails off. He doesn’t have the words to say, not that words can fix anything. Rose walks over and grabs your hand, spreading your fingers and then pressing them closed around a cold plastic cup. You’re still shaking so bad that it would’ve slipped out if it weren’t for Rose still holding onto the bottom of it. “It’s water.”

            You don’t say anything so she lifts the cup to your lips and you drink some. You feel really strange—really empty. You haven’t experienced the death of someone close before and you don’t know how to react, and this isn’t right. You feel detached. Words leave your lips in a soft mumble—not even you can interpret them—and your friends look freaked out except for Rose.

            “I believe that she is going into emotional trauma.” She says slowly. You can’t feel your hands and you think you mention that in your mumbling and Rose sits next to you.

            “Jade, can I take your hands?” She waits a moment before slipping them in yours. “Can you feel my hands?”

            You give a slight shake of your head. “Just breathe. Please, close your eyes and take a deep breath.”

            After awhile Rose gets you calmed down—hardly—and has you lay down and Dave finds a blanket, pulling it over you. It doesn’t keep you warm. The lights are turned off and the room is dark besides the glow of surrounding buildings. You hear Bro return and the pushing of the fridge back against the door and him and Dave conversing in the kitchen quietly, but urgently. John and Rose are on the far side of the room—you think they are trying to call their parents again, but it’s not working.

            Eventually, you close your eyes and when you open them again it’s morning. Someone is touching your shoulder and you roll over to find that it’s John. You sit up and hold out the blanket to him. He sits next to you and pulls the other half of the blanket around him.

            “Bro left early in the morning. Said he had an errand to run and that he’d be back after lunch.”

            “What time is it now?” You rub under your eye.

            “Eleven-thirty. Rose and Dave are still asleep.”

            “John?”

            “What are we going to do?”

            “I-I don’t know, Jade! Uh…it’ll be fine, though. Especially since we have Bro.” John stutters and it doesn’t reassure you at all. Your heart aches horribly.

            “Did you get in contact with your dad?”

            “No…I don’t think I will. Bro said we can drive by my house and Rose’s if the roads aren’t blocked off. I think my dad’s alright though.”  

            “Can we turn on the T.V.?” you ask.

            “I guess so.” John reaches for the remote hesitantly and turns it onto the news. There’s a lot of dead bodies on the street. They didn’t bother censoring it. There are also a lot of people running around and there’s so much rubble and glass and wrecked cars. You wince.

            “Live right now from our helicopter crew: Houston is a mess. It has been in chaos since last night when many people infected with a disease that seems to make them _literally_ go insane gathered in masses throughout the streets. It seems to be spreading quickly and doctors are unsure where the disease came from. The first to be admitted into the Houston Methodist Hospital showing the newly-discovered symptoms of the disease was sent to the Menninger Clinic where others with the same symptoms were brought. At twelve last night, the clinic caught on fire and they broke free onto the streets. No one is still sure what the illness is or how to stop it, but it seems that other cities around the world are experiencing the same problem. The death toll is increasingly high and the government has ordered a state of emergency—”

            “Turn it off.”

            John turns it off.

            “We’re going to die.”

            “No, we aren’t, Jade. Don’t be ridiculous. We are safe,” he reasons.

            “We aren’t going to be safe here forever. We are either going to go crazy from starvation or we are going to go crazy from that illness!” You feel prickling in the corners of your eyes.

            John remains calm and nudges your elbow. “What is it that your favorite comic character says?”

            “Wh-what?”

            “Doesn’t she say something like ‘there’s still something worth fighting for’?” John smiles at you. 

            “She’s a _comic_ character in a _fictional_ comic! She revived every time she died until the end of the series! This isn’t a comic—this is real life,” your voice cracks. You understand what he’s saying .You’re not acting like yourself—usually you are positive. The sadness is still speaking for you. “Once you die, there’s no coming back.”

            John gives up, stops trying to bring you back to your senses.

            Eventually Dave and Rose wake up and Bro returns with a stolen shopping cart full of stuff and Dave mutters that he was lucky the elevators still work. Everyone eats lunch and Bro tells you the plan.”

            “First, we’re gonna stop by Egbert’s place, then Lalonde’s, and then we’re gonna book it out of here to my friend’s ranch. We ain’t gonna stay in the city longer than we have to.”

            Bro gives you each things to put into your backpack from the cart—mostly food and some medical supplies. He then packs his own two bags full of supplies and weapons and grabs his keys and everyone shuffles out the door. You take the blanket with you, walking with it bundled in your arms. You get out into the parking garage and Bro finds his truck, unlocks it, packs it, gets in. The parking garage is mostly empty—on a normal day it’s packed tight with vehicles. Everyone buckles up—you really don’t want to be a in a car again but you don’t say anything. You wait for Dave’s brother to start the car. It doesn’t start.

            “What’s going on?” Dave inquires.

            “I don’t know.” Bro gets out and checks the engine. “Son of a..”

            “Huh?”

            “Someone stole my fucking battery.”

            “Wh..what do we do?” John asks anxiously.

            “I…guess we’re on foot for now.”

            The streets are a mess and people are scattered around—news reporters, police officers, paramedics, firefighters, civilians. Glass crunches underneath your tennis shoes as Bro leads you into an alley. You constantly look around, feeling jittery. The end of the alley is blocked by rubble and Dave helps him start clearing it. The building next to you is on fire and you can feel the heat of the flames on your skin. It’s slowly falling apart.

            You hear raspy screeching from behind and as you turn around a force knocks you to the ground. Your head hits the concrete hard and the world goes black before you can even scream.

 

 

TWO DAYS LATER…

Dave

           

            Jade stirs next to you with a small moan. You turn in your chair towards her and grab her hand. She has been in the medical headquarters for two days now and this is the first movement you’ve seen her do.

            “Jade, I’m here.” You hear the hope in your voice. She slowly opens her eyes halfway and before opening them fully. She looks at you.

            “Dave?” she murmurs. “What’s going on?”  

            “Jade,” you smile at her—it’s a small smile, but it’s progress, “you were out for two days. Do you remember what happened?”

            “I…not really.”

            “You got attacked. You’ve got some pretty bad bruises and when you fell you hit your forehead pretty hard. You’re okay, though.”

            She nods, “I remember now.” Jade groans softly and rubs her forehead. “Am I in trouble?”

            “No.”

            “Are you?”

            “No.” you answer. “Are you in any pain?”

            “A little—I’m alright.” She closes her eyes. “Dave, I need to cut my hair.”

            “Why?”

            “Because that guy grabbed it and instantly had the first advantage. If he hadn’t been able to grab it…I wouldn’t be here right now.”

            You frown. “I mean, I guess if you want to cut it…that’s just gonna be weird. You’ve never really cut it before.”

            “I know.” She pauses. “Cut it for me.”

            “Now?”

            “No, no. Not now! Later…” Jade opens her eyes and looks down at your hand. She squeezes it. “Next time…I promise I’ll fight better.”

            “You didn’t even put up a fight, Jade.” You raise an eyebrow.

            “I know! I couldn’t.” She rolls her eyes. “That’s why I’m saying next time I will try harder.”  

            She pauses, as if considering telling you something, but then seems to change her mind.

            “Is there something you wanna talk about?”

            “I was…I was just…no never mind.”

            “No, tell me.”

            “I was really scared. I’m glad you were there…if you weren’t…” she smiles, “…I’d probably be on the pile right now.”

            Your own smile fades. Not a chance, Jade. Not a chance.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the update delay. I will get the next chapter up soon.


	6. Artifice

John

            There wasn’t a lot you could do when Jane suddenly came down with an illness. Dirk carried her to the medical head quarters after a few days of her extremely high fever and loss of appetite. You didn’t want to catch whatever she picked up, but you couldn’t sit around either. So you had gone to Jake one day when he was on street duty. He seemed taller when you found him, but he didn’t seem different emotionally. He was upset when you told him about Jane—they had known each other for a long time—and insisted that you take his ration card for her. You knew he would do this—Rose told you not to go—but you did anyway. They help though. Jane is starting to look better, but barely. At least she is eating a little more than before and her fever has gone down. She still has the infection, but there’s no antibiotics available currently—at least that’s what the doctor said. You knew he was lying when he said that—he looked guilty and his eyebrow twitched. The medication is somewhere in the labs. You have to find it.

            You pull a scarf around your mouth and stand up, heading towards the door.

            “Where are you going?” you freeze and slowly turn around. Dirk.

            “To the medical headquarters.” You reply quietly.

            “You can’t visit after dark. Why would you be going there?” his eyes narrow.

            “Alright…I’m going to go get the antibiotics.” Telling the truth is the best thing to do here. You hope that he won’t try to stop you. “I’m going to sneak in, grab them, and go.”

            “John…you don’t even know where they are—or if they are even _in there_ —and if you get caught, you’re in trouble. That place is heavily guarded.”

            “I-I know—and you know that there’s no other option for us!”

            “Jane’s getting better—you saw her today.”

            “It’s the _calm before the storm_ , _Dirk_ ,” you push your glasses up. “She may seem better today, but she could relapse before the end of the week. Her life is on the line here because they won’t give her the antibiotics.”

            Dirk falls silent and looks away for a moment before pulling on his jacket. He grabs his katana.

            “What are you doing?”

            “I’m coming with you.”

            “Really?” you are actually relieved.

            “Yeah, I’m not letting you go there alone.” He reaches past you and opens the door. You both walk out and head towards the medical headquarters, sticking to the shadows. Despite curfew starting an hour ago, there are still stragglers in the alleyways.

            “How are we going to get inside?” you crouch behind a dumpster. Dirk shrugs.

            “Luckily, we don’t have to cross the street. We can enter from behind. The back door, actually.”

            “The _back door_? There are guards!” you whisper.

            “We can take them.”

            “K-kill them?”

            “No. Knock them out.” Dirk touches your head. “Give them a good smack right here. Or strangle them. I would suggest number one for you, though.”

            “F-fine. Let’s get closer.” You follow Dirk until you’re behind a crate. In front of you is the back entrance of the headquarters. There are two guards on either side of the door .

            “You get the left—I’ll get the right.” Dirk looks at you. You nod and pull your scarf up higher. “Go.”

            You sneak up around the left and pull out your knife. “O-okay, you’re just gonna hit him in the head with the end of this and then it will be okay. You can do this.”

            You jump out at the guard and kick him in the knees like you saw someone do in the movies. When he moves to fall, you follow his direction and drive the end of the hilt of your knife towards his skull. He passes out and you thought that was a pretty clean job for your first stealth mission. Dirk’s already at the door, pulling it open for you. You duck in and he quietly closes it behind him. Inside, it’s dimly lit by camping lanterns at every corner.

            “Wait there’s a map here.” Dirk moves towards the wall. “The labs are down the hall to the left and then we make a right.”

            You peek around the corner. Clear. You start moving, keeping to the right wall. Dirk follows your lead.

            The coast seems to be clear until you get to the corner where the right turn is. The guard isn’t really visible—they are standing in the darkness between lanterns and you don’t see them until they see you. They make a noise of surprise and jump into action, heading in your direction. Their noise alerted the other guard who was apparently a bit further down the hallway who also is making their way over—quickly.

            You put your arms in front of you, bracing yourself, and the impact throws you to the linoleum floor with a loud thump.

            “You’re under arrest!” the guard turns out to be a girl, but you can’t see her face. In the corner of your eye, you notice that Dirk is running towards the other guard. You’re on your own.

            “N-no, you don’t understand—” you start.

            “What? Are you looking for the bathroom?” the girl replies bitterly, her weight nearly crushing your small frame.

            “Maybe I am,” you respond and with a grunt you gather up the strength to push her off of you, rolling on top of her. The handcuffs she had been removing from her belt clang on the tiles. She grits her teeth and grabs your shoulders, pushing you off with a powerful force that knocks you back towards one of the lanterns. It really hurt your tailbone—it’s tingling now. Ouch.

            She stands and makes her way over to you, snatching the cuffs up on her way. The girl grabs your jacket collar and pulls it closer. “If you pull that again, I will—”

            You pull out your knife and go to hilt-knock her out like you did to the guy outside.

            “Oh—!” she ducks and grabs your arm, pulling you back down and you make sure you pull her down too and sit on her. She still has a grip on your arm and you’re struggling to bring it down to her temple. Your scarf slips down in your struggle.

            “J-john?!”

            You freeze. Oh my god. You drop the knife. A loud clatter echoes down the hallway.

            “Jade?”

            A laugh escapes her lips and she grabs your face. “Oh my god, John. Dave, don’t hurt him!” Dirk moves away from Dave and pushes back his hood.

            “Damn.” Dirk crosses his arms, a surprised expression on his face.

            You slowly grin. It’s been a long time since you’ve last seen her—a month or so. She looks different. Older, maybe?  There are also quite a few cuts on her face as well as a bruise across her forehead. “I was about to knock you out, Jade. You’re lucky.”

            “I don’t need to get more brain damage.” She rolls her eyes. “What the heck are you doing sneaking around here? If you get caught by someone else—”

            “We need to get antibiotics for Jane.” It comes out more than a plead than an excuse.          

            “I thought she was getting better?” Jade meets your eyes.

            “Not for very long…”

            “What happens if you get in trouble for stealing—if they find out, you could get kicked out.”

            “I know. This is important, though. Jade, please help us.” You get off of her, rising to your feet. Holding your hand out to her, she grabs it and stands. Jade looks towards Dave, a crease between her eyebrows, and he shoots her a similar expression back—more Jade-Dave telepathic communication. Dave sighs.

            “Let’s just hope none of us regret this.” Dave shakes his head. “Jade, stay here, I’ll take them where they need to go.”

            “Fine.”

            “Thank you,” Dirk looks relieved. You turn towards Dave, but Jade grabs your arm and pulls you into a hug. You expect to get your fingers tangled in her hair, but they don’t. Weird.

            “Despite this illegal situation, I’m glad to see you,” she smiles slightly.

            “I’m glad, too.” You step back. “What happened to your hair?”

            “Long story. We can catch up some other time,” she ruffles your hair. “Be careful.”

            “Yeah, yeah, you too,” you answer and meet up with Dave and Dirk who have already started to walk.

            “How’s it going with you, John?” Dave nudges your shoulder as you fall into step beside him.

            “Alright, I guess. It’s pretty boring around here, you know?”

            “Tell me about it,” Dave chuckles. “I actually got excited that someone would be getting arrested, but it was just you guys.”

            “Oh, sorry we’re not criminal enough for you,” you slide the knife into your boot.

            “This can’t be the only action you’ve seen.” Dirk raises an eyebrow.

            “True. A lot of stuff happens. The people are getting restless…” he pauses. “Jade got attacked the other day. Almost got herself killed—typical Jade thing.”

            You bite your lip, remembering the marks on her face. “What happened?”

            “Maybe we can talk about it some other time. She’s okay, that’s all that matters.” Dave turns the corner and walks to a guard, showing his card. “They’re with me. Don’t mind them.”

            The guard hesitates, looking over the card. “What are they doing here?”

            “Running an errand for the smaller clinic from another part of the zone.”

            “This late at night?” he shoots you a suspicious glare. Dave rustles around in his pocket and pulls out some waded pink papers, holding them out. God dammit, Dave.

            “Go right on.” The guard pockets them.

            Then he opens a door, letting you in. That was easier than you thought it would be. Dirk steps in and you follow.

            “I’ll find it. Just wait by the door.” Dave opens a cabinet and pushing some things around. He pulls out a bottle and digs around some more before finding a syringe. “Do you even know how to use this thing?”

            “Not really, but I guess we can figure it out.” Dirk wraps them up in a bandana and slips it into his jacket. “Thanks.”

            “Yeah.” Dave opens the door and as you walk out of the room, he grabs your arm. “John.”

            “What is it?”

            “Be careful. Don’t pull this again. You were lucky that it was us keeping watch tonight. You…you can’t be taking any chances. I don’t know what they will do if they find out about you sneaking around.”

            You nod, swallowing hard, and he releases you. Dave walks you to the back exit and the cold evening air rushes through your hair.

            “The wind’s picking up,” Dirk pauses before stepping out. “A storm’s coming. Probably bringing in a cold front.”

            “It doesn’t usually get this cold down here.” Dave shakes his head. “I’ve never seen it snow down south…but the temperature is getting so low, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

            “We gotta get going,” you interrupt, starting to head across the back lot. “I’ll see you around, Dave.”

            “Remember what I said.”

            “Alright.” You duck into the shadows. Getting scolded by Dave isn’t fun.

Jade

            November passes slowly, but you get to go home for Thanksgiving. You don’t have a big feast like you used to have before, but it’s special. You’re lucky you can at least celebrate and you find yourself thinking about the pilgrims. You are the pilgrims—adapting to a new lifestyle, only there are no natives to teach you how to live—no one to guide your way. Survival is up to you. So that’s what you celebrate this year—survival and being together.

            Roxy seems somber when she sits down at the table and rubs her hands together. You don’t ask her what’s wrong. It’s probably something she doesn’t want to talk about.

            John fixes up a larger dinner than you usually eat since you got extra rations for the holiday and Rose helps Jane to a chair. She’s getting healthier since she got the antibiotics (the doctors called it a “miracle”) and she has been eating better. Jake is already sitting at the table looking somewhat happy so you sit between him and Dave.

            “Happy Thanksgiving, guys.” John sets down a few bowls in the middle of the table with Dirk’s help and then both take a seat. No one prays (who’s God?). They start serving themselves, being sure to save enough for everyone. Macaroni and cheese, beans, and apple slices. There’s also some bread. You’re used to eating dry sandwiches and fruit, so you are content as you get your food.

            The room is quiet for a few minutes before John clears his throat.

            “So there are some birthdays coming up this week,” he smiles. The only good part about turning eighteen is being able to go outside the zone on supply runs. You stay quiet, eating slowly. “We should celebrate them now since we’re all here.”

            “How do you suppose we do that?” Rose looks over at him.

            “Sing happy birthday!” John’s eyes brighten and you know he’s trying to make this as normal as he can. “Like after dinner. I…even have something I’ve been holding onto for us.”

            You glance up from your plate, curious. “Hm?”

            “Well, you gotta go through with my idea before I tell you.”

            “That sounds fine, John.” Dave nods.

            “Jane, how are you holding up over there?” Roxy leans her elbow on the table.

            “I’m doing fine! Thank you,” Jane shoots her a half-grin. She’s tired. So is everyone else.

            “How’s your head doing, Jade?” Dave nudges you.

            Ever since you hit your head, you’ve been having migraines every couple of days. Limited sleep doesn’t help either. “It has been alright.”

            When everyone finishes eating, John starts singing and everyone joins in as happily as they can. It’s kind of a random burst of names since there are so many before you’re done singing and John grabs his backpack. He pulls out some chocolate bars and holds them up. That gets everyone excited.

            “I thought you guys might like these.” John splits them evenly and distributes them. “I-I mean they’re kinda old of course—”

            “They’re great, John! Thank you.” you eat yours slowly, savoring it. You miss being able to go to the store and buy candy.

            Then the celebrations over and you go to bed because you’re very tired. Dave pushes his cot up next to yours and slides in. You pull the blanket up higher, scooting closer to him. It’s still really cold and you’re shivering.

            “That was nice.” He says.

            “Yeah, I’m just…,” you take a breath, “just happy that we could all be here for it.”

            He nods and wraps an arm around you, noticing your shivering. “Things have been pretty good for us here. Life’s looking up.”

            You sigh. “Good things never last for very long.”

            “How optimistic, Jade.” Dave’s words are colored with sarcasm.

            “I know. I’m just waiting for the gravity to pull us back down.”

            “Well, hey, at least you’re getting what you wanted—we get to go on a supply run pretty soon. You can get out of here for a bit.”

            “Not that you are excited about it,” you smile and he returns one.

            “Things can get bad out there.”

            “Not if you know what you’re doing,” you answer.

            “And you know what you’re doing?”

            “Maybe. I am smarter now than I was before.”

            “Hm.” he closes his eyes. “Good night.”

            “Night, Dave.”

Dave

            So you’re the big one-eight now. You don’t feel much different. Maybe it’s because nothing has changed except for the fact that your squad is now qualified for outer-zone missions and that it has already been selected for one. That’s understandable—supplies are low and it’s been strangely cold—too cold.

            Your squad is already geared up, including Jade. She’s more energetic than usual and was the first one ready. You are taking a truck and you are not the only squad being sent. There’s one other besides yours and they get their own truck. This is a test-run for the new squads like yours and your actions will decide whether you get to go on independent missions.

            You hop onto the truck bed and sit back. Jade joins you, but for a moment you don’t realize that it’s her. It’s easy to forget that she cut her hair. She looks so different now…you can’t explain it, though.

            The trucks drive through the front gate. You’re on your own now and you hope you will be able to see those gates again. Jade leans against the side across from you.

            “We won’t be driving for very long.” She looks out at the trees. “The first town’s only about two hours away.”

            “Good thing. This isn’t the most comfortable seat.”

            You haven’t spotted anything yet. Just trees, trees, and more trees. Huh. It’s almost a normal drive.

 

           

            “Town’s comin’ up, keep your eyes peeled.” Your leader slides the back window open. Jade braces herself for the braking of the pickup, which you should’ve done because you nearly fall over. “Alright, we’re on foot from here. Don’t shoot unless it’s an emergency. We want to be quiet.”

            You slide off the truck bed onto the ground. The trucks stopped in front of a store. “Grab whatever seems useful and bring it to the truck. When that seat and floor are filled up, we can move to the next destination. Now, _move_!”

            Everyone spreads out, moving into different buildings. You and Jade follow some of your partners into a hotel. It must’ve been a pretty nice hotel at some point—it’s big and there’s a large chandelier that’s shattered on the marble floors. You head back towards the kitchen—if there’s any food, it will most likely be in there. Jade heads upstairs to check for anything in the open rooms.

            Pushing open the double doors slowly, you crouch down and peek around a faded, wooden counter. It seems clear. You start digging through the cabinets. It looks like someone has been here before you, but you find some useful things—containers, scissors, and some other stuff. There’s not much food that you can take back and when you have searched the whole kitchen, you drop your findings off inside the truck. It’s almost full.

            Jade dumps a bag full of medical supplies—tape, pain relievers, band-aids—onto the seat. You offer her a smile, but then you notice the blood on her gloves. You frown.

            “Are you okay?”

            “This isn’t my blood, Dave. There were some Corrupted up there, but I handled it.” She shrugs and tilts her head towards the building. “Come on, I didn’t get to check all the rooms.”

            You follow her upstairs to the second floor and start clearing rooms. She was right. There is a couple Corrupted scattered around the floor, but you take them out swiftly and then you feel that familiar sensation of blood running through your fingers. It makes you sick.

            In one of the rooms, you find a glittering bracelet in the back corner of a dresser drawer. Observing it, it seems pretty nice. Jade used to wear a charm bracelet every day, but she lost hers a long time ago. You’ll save it for later.

            When the back of both trucks are filled, there’s a headcount and everyone loads back into the trucks and you leave to go to the next town. Everything has passed by smoothly so far—it was a small town. Now the sun is setting, though, and camp needs to be set up. A barn is pointed out and that’s the location the mission leader selected. They say that it is ‘secure’ enough.

            Blankets are unrolled and rations passed out. Two lookouts are selected and given flashlights. Everyone else hits the hay. Literally. At least you still have some humor.

 

            You are pulled from your sleep from the painful jolt of someone stepping on your back. Grunting, you grab the person by their shirt. “What the hell are you—”

            They growl at you, low in their throat. What the hell? You push them away and stumble to your feet. You turn your head and see that the barn doors are open. Son of a…

            “Everyone get up, _now_!”

            The man runs at you, barely giving you time to pull out your knife. It’s dark and you can’t really see what’s going on—it surprises you when you trip over someone and you tumble backwards onto your butt. He grasps your arm, but you pull it back quickly, giving the man a good kick before stabbing him. You realize that he’s not the only one in the barn. At least the other squad members are jumping into action. The lookouts are nowhere to be seen, which worries you, but you’ve got to deal with this mess first.

            Someone decides to shoot a gun, which riles everyone up—the Corrupted included. It also causes more people to draw their guns and start shooting. Another squad member lights a lantern right as he is pounced on. You run to her help, shoving the woman off of her. The girl shoots the woman and you turn your head away. Guns aren’t really to your liking. Jade on the other hand…wait. You search for Jade. Where is she?

            Jesus Christ. She is still sound asleep. You shake her and Jade wakes up, looking confused and upset.

            “Grab your gun, _now_.”

            She does as told and runs off somewhere in the barn, fighting. There are a lot that got in—you are outnumbered.

            You take out a few with your knife, but it gets harder and unfortunately you draw your gun and make your few shots count. Whenever you think the mass is thinning out, it seems to get thicker—it’s like running through quicksand: with every step you find yourself in more and more trouble.

            A Corrupted woman corners you against the wall. You hear that horrible, stomach-twisting click of your rifle and you can’t reload—not enough time. She reaches out a hand covered with a rash toward you and you grab her arm and fling her downwards at the wooden stall a few feet away. Breathe. Lift rifle. Swing. _Smash_.

            You follow the same movements every time they get closer. When you feel their hot breath on your skin, you grab them and follow your procedure: Breathe. Lift rifle. Swing. Smash.

            At this moment, you feel like a robot—designed to do one thing and one thing only—a machine of destruction. When you fall, you build yourself back up and follow your procedure. You even find yourself swinging your rifle at nothing and you look down and you see the bodies of Corrupted around you and it’s so disgusting—the blood is soaking into your pants.

            You breathe and shake yourself, willing yourself to calm down. When you catch your breath, you realize that you were crying—not baby-crying, but your eyes are welled with tears. The Corrupted are gone. They are dead. You glance up and see Jade against the wall across the barn, her head tilted back against it and her shoulders heaving. Her gun is beside her and she is covered in a lot of blood. You are the same way.

            As you make your way over to her, the squad leader starts searching for the lookouts and cleaning up. She looks up at you when you kneel in front of her. You can tell that Jade’s on the verge of tears and she hugs you tightly.

            “It’s okay,” you whisper. “It’s over. Are you hurt.”

            “N-no!”  

            Moving away to check her over, you swear you see blood, but she shakes her head and covers it with her arm. “You sure?”

            “I think I got a sliver when I fell, I’m alright.”

            “Looks like a pretty big sliver.”

            “It’s just a scratch, okay? I’m fine.”

            You stand, pulling her with you and everyone forms a line. The squad leader holds up a lantern. “Is anyone injured?”

            By that you know he mainly means bit or cut. The infection spreads through the bloodstream and usually gets in when someone has a surface wound. It’s best to get their blood off of you as soon as possible in case you do have any cuts. More commonly, people get bit and then get infected. The Corrupted will try to sink their teeth into a lot of things.

            Someone raises a shaky hand. “I was b-bit, sir.”

            The leader sighs. “You got two choices: we leave you behind and take your gear with us, or we shoot you right now and take your gear with us.”

            Jade shifts beside you and you can sense her anxiety.

            “You got two seconds to decide.”

            “W-what?! Come on—I mean I feel fine—”

            A gunshot. He falls to the ground. Jade winces and you grab her hand. She pulls her hand away gently and shoves both hands in her pockets. You shoot her a confused expression, but she just shakes her head.

            The lookouts were found. Both are dead. You assume they fell asleep on the job, but who knows. Everyone who is left loads back onto the trucks since morning is only a few hours away and you have to get to the next town soon. You ride in the back again with Jade and she’s silent the whole ride. Maybe she knew the guy who was bit.

           

            The next town is bigger and there are more Corrupted hanging around. One of the buildings are on fire and the only thing you can blame for that is the circle of Corrupted surrounding the building chanting in creepy voices. That’s gonna give you nightmares.

            It will take the whole day to dig through this town, but the trucks are filling up nicely and it’s already lunch time. You sit on the steps of what once was a library and take out your lunch: water, a protein bar, and an apple. Yum.

            Jade sits a foot away. You’re used to having her nearby all the time and her presence helps you be less on-edge.

            “This town has a lot of leftover stuff in it, doesn’t it?” You unwrap your protein bar and take a bite. It’s stale.

            Jade shrugs and eats her apple. Okay then.

            “Are you feeling okay?”

            “Why wouldn’t I be feeling okay?” She’s using almost a bitter tone.

            “Well, uh, you’ve been having migraines…so—”

            “I’m fine.”

            You fall silent, a little surprised at her attitude. Jade eventually gets up and goes back to work, but you lag behind when it comes to clearing rooms. By sunset, the trucks are filled as much as they can fit and after replenishing gas, everyone hops in. They head towards the third and final town—a medical supplies-centered trip since there is a large science laboratory and hospital there. That also means more surrounding buildings, but different squads are returning to clear those next week. You camp in a small building on the outskirts, only this time you and Jade are on guard duty. There will be a switch-out in a few hours, but the building shouldn’t be hard to guard—it’s not that big. You stand outside of the room where everyone’s sleeping—a large conference room—and the doors closed. It’s just you and Jade and she hasn’t spoken a word to you since earlier.

            “Did I say something wrong?”

            She flinches and you feel like you’re right despite not being able to remember what your mistake was. “No.”

            You sigh and put your hands in your jacket pockets. “Then what’s going—”

            Something cold touches your hand and you grab it. Oh yeah. The bracelet from earlier. You wonder if that would help. Didn’t guys used to give girls jewelry when they wanted to say sorry or pass a message to them? That was before, not now, but it’s worth a try maybe?

            “Jade?”

            “What is it, Dave?” she sighs and finally turns around to look at you.

            “I found this and thought, hey, you know, ‘Jade used to have one of these, maybe she’ll like it’, but if you don’t just give it away,” You grab her hand and drop the silver into it and then she bites her lip, looking at it. You wonder if it was a bad idea giving it to her—that it would trigger thoughts that she didn’t like to have lingering around—by the pained expression on her face. She slides it onto her wrist. It fits nicely.

            “Thanks, Dave. This is a really pretty bracelet.” She glances back at the conference room and then sits down across the hall, patting next to her. You sit there. “Hey, when you get out of the army, what are you going to do?”

            “What do you mean?”

            “Like are you going to have a family?” Jade crosses her legs.

             “Oh.” Why is she asking that? You’ve never given much thought to that. This is a pretty crappy world for a kid to grow up in, but you know people still have them: ‘It’s up to us survivors to keep the human race going’. “I don’t know, why?”

            “I’m just wondering.” Jade pauses. “Like you and—”

            “Whoa there, Harley. why are you even asking me this?”

            “I don’t know…like I said, I’m curious.” Jade seems stressed about something. “I want to know what you’re planning for the future.”

            “I’m winging it,” you laugh slightly, trying to break the awkwardness. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been improvising most of the time.”

            “I guess you’re just a professional improviser then.” Jade fidgets with her fingers. Now you’re starting to get stressed out. “I think you’ll be pretty safe at camp. They seem to know what they’re doing Corrupted-security-wise.”

            “Sure.”

            Jade’s silent for a moment before she smiles and nods. “It’s true.”

            You put a hand on her head and she glances at you, reaching up and pulling your hand down to rest on her cheek. She leans forward and you shoot her a look, causing her to freeze.

            “What are you doing?”

            “Kissing you?” Her response sounds more like a question.

            “Right now?” You brush your thumb over her cheekbone. God, she’s so random. You’re also kind of nervous—it may look like you’ve kissed a bunch of girls at some point, but you actually haven’t. Lame, huh?

            “Mhm.”

            “What made you decide to do that right at this moment instead of, say, five years ago?”

            “Five years ago you were more focused on video games than hanging out with Rose and me,” Jade smiles again.

            You groan—you don’t like talking about your thirteen-year-old self. That is an embarrassing time to look back on. It was video-gaming 24/7 and always being “unavailable” to go out with friends, forcing them to go online with you instead.

            “You’ve gotta make up for that somehow, you know.”

            “What, getting you this far in a post-apocalyptic environment isn’t enough?” You tease.

            “Oh Pleasssseee, Dave. That wasn’t just you and your overly-paranoid-fatherly-concern that got me through this. I am pretty tough and I did a lot of the work myself, y’know.” She laughs.

            “I know, you’re right,” You sigh. She really is correct—your attitude doesn’t always help out too well in certain situations.

            Jade pushes her glasses up. “Of course.”

            “Hush,” you lean forward, kissing her lightly and you feel her cold fingers on the back of your neck. You almost jerk away—they’re like ice, but they move up into your hair so you can’t feel the frostiness of them anymore. Why are they so cold—you are unsure, but you are aware of her scooting closer and kissing you more forcibly and it feels really _awesome_ and _normal_. You could almost forget that you’re watching out for murderous, infected people who have lost their minds and run around crazy and you could be anywhere—on your brother’s couch, maybe? Okay, no, not a good memory, but maybe at the arboretum a couple blocks away from there.

            But then, you both remember that you _are_ looking out for murderous, infected people who have lost their minds and that this isn’t really the time for trying to be normal (there’s no “normal” anymore). She slowly tilts her head back to look up at you, her face serious.

            “Thank you.”

            “For what?”

            “Just think about it for awhile.”


	7. Disquieting

Jade

            The rest of the run goes off without a hitch; in fact the town is seemingly…empty. No Corrupted, no uninfected people, no anything except for the supplies you need. It doesn’t feel right. Yet, at sundown as you load onto the trucks and pull out to drive home, everything happens as wanted. You sit in the bed of the truck with other soldiers and crates of supplies, looking up at the silver moon. Dave is squished between two crates a few feet away. You’ve been acting a little shy towards him even though it was _you_ who wanted the kiss. It wasn’t like he has started treating you differently—he treats you the same way he always has, so you have no excuse.

            You run your fingers over your lower lip wishing his were there again because ever since last night, that’s all you’ve felt and it’s hard to push away. Ugh. Maybe that was a bad choice. It’s a distraction and you wonder if he is thinking about the same th— _no_! You don’t wonder because you don’t care!! Whatever.

            The trucks are slowly approaching Trinity…a very _smoky_ Trinity. Are _that_ many people allowed to be having fires this late at night? There are also gunshots. Uh… _shit_.

            Corrupted are crawling up on each others’ shoulders and over the walls. Are you _serious_? You sit up just as the truck swerves to the left and the driver floors it—you aren’t expecting the force and are thrown out of the truck.

            “ _Jade_?! _Fuck_!”

            Your side hits the ground _hard_ right where you got hurt the other night. The truck is long gone around the other side of the wall and you’re on your own with a rifle strapped across your chest (it hit your chin when you flew out of the truck bed), a knife, and a revolver that’s not even fully loaded. You collect yourself, standing up, and when you walk your left foot sends a jolt of pain up your leg. Pain isn’t something to think about right now, though—you’ve got to get in there and get to your friends and you know Dave is thinking the same thing. Plus, you don’t have a lot of time.

            The Corrupted are distracted by the wall—the guards are long gone—so you use their distraction to your advantage, sneaking to the left where the truck took off. The Corrupted aren’t over here yet, so you jump up and grab the rungs of a ladder that hang above the ground a few feet and climb to the top. You pull yourself onto the storage container and then climb down to the other side. It’s a riot even though the siren is blaring—people running everywhere—it reminds you of Houston. _Not now_!

            Corrupted are also laughing and chasing after people. You start limping in the direction of the condo, knifing a few Corrupted on the way. One is hovering over a small girl, pulling her hair and she’s crying so you grab him by the shoulders and fling him back despite the sharp pain in your side and foot.

            “Get inside somewhere!” You shout to the girl and she scatters. As you turn your attention back to the man, he’s giggling at you. You shudder and grit your teeth.

            He points at you and speaks in a raspy voice, “You a sick, also.”

             “You don’t have much room to speak.”

            “Right there.” His finger points lower towards your side.

            “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Furrowing your eyebrows, you shoot him and continue on your way. It’s just a scratch, you’re not sick. The Corrupted surprisingly don’t seem interested in you and that confuses you. A woman is blocking the way to the condo, banging on the door and screaming. Her skin is red with rash and she smells awful. Instead of wasting bullets, you grab her greasy hair and go to pull her back onto the ground when a bullet finds its way through her chest. You drop the Corrupted woman, surprised, and look up to find Dave standing there. He looks you over.

            “You okay? I can’t believe you—”

            “Yeah, I kinda hurt my foot, but now’s not the time to be worried about that.” Opening the door, you and Dave run inside and are nearly decapitated by Dirk’s sword.

            “WHOA, STOP!!!! IT’S THEM!!!!”  Roxy screams loudly. Jake lowers his gun and slams the door closed behind you. The lock has always been broken, so he pushes a chair under the doorknob.

            “We just got here,” he explains. Rose is packing things in bags with Jane’s help—who’s still a bit weak. John comes up and he looks scared.

            “Where are we going to go?”

            “We’re leaving as soon as our stuff gets packed up.” Dirk mutters.

            “Almost finished!” Jane calls from the kitchenette.

            “What can we help with?” Dave asks, out of breath.

            “Help us guard for two more minutes. We can’t stay any longer.” Dirk replies, hilt of his sword tight in his fingers. You start feeling sick and crouch down trying to take deep breathes because your stomach isn’t cooperating with you right now.

            “Jade, what are you doing?” Jake looks down at you and bends over. “You look like you’ve got the collywobbles.”

            “The _what_?” You don’t look up at him.

            “You look sick.”

            “Just a little bit,” that was more sarcastic than intended, but he doesn’t seem offended. Instead, he places the back of his hand against your forehead and you close your eyes, still trying to breathe.

            “You’re burning up.”

            “I was feeling fine before I got here.”

            “Well, you’re not fine anymore. I would tell you to take it easy, but now isn’t really the time.” Jake looks worried. “Can you stand, dear?”

            “Of course.” Holding your stomach, you stand. A groan prompts Dave to give you his trademark concerned stare.

            “Done!” Rose and Jane distribute backpacks. You go to grab one to throw over the one you’re already carrying, but Jake takes it instead. Dirk moves the chair away from the door, peeks outside and then throws open the door. “Go.”

            It turns into follow-the-leader and thankfully you’re in the middle because you’re limping and on the verge of losing the little food you have inside of you. You won’t fall behind. Sticking to shadows, the Corrupted don’t notice as you all make your way to where you came. There is an empty truck from the supply raid sitting right outside of the gate when you climb over the wall and Dirk shakes his head. “I’m going to regret this.”

            He runs over and slides in the driver’s seat—the truck’s running, but is in park. “Everyone get in.”

            The Corrupted near the wall finally notice you and start tumbling over each other, hands outreached toward your friends. Everyone jumps in the truck and Dirk shifts into drive. “Hang on!”

            This time, you make sure to find a handhold before Dirk floors the truck down the road.

            Your current crimes: Deserting and stealing. Yep, you’re now a criminal and you could give two darns about it.

            You turn and glance out the back window, watching as the zone grows far away until all you can see of it is smoke curling upwards on the horizon. Dirk’s driving doesn’t help settle your stomach. Dave finds a map in the glove department and gives directions to the town that you previously were in that was empty.

            Dirk parks the truck behind a building and Dave shoots the lock on the back door. There are still supplies in the bed of the truck, so crates are carried inside. The same conference room as the other night is found and turned into your own mini safe zone. At least you hope it’s safe. Doors are barricaded and since it’s cold, a nest of blankets and pillows is arranged in a corner, but you don’t even make it halfway—your face is burning and so is your head and your knees hit the ground just as the darkness consumes you.

           

            You are in a car and when you see who is driving it, you are surprised. Dave’s brother looks back at you. “Good, you’ve rejoined the party.” God, you’ve _got to stop blacking out_.

            It is burning hot inside the car even with the windows down. “What’s going on? Whose car is this?”

            “No idea.”

            “You _stole_ a car?”

            “Would you rather still be lying back there in that alley?”

            Dave shakes his head at you—his brother’s in one of his moods. “We’re going to Rose’s house…”

            John sniffles. You look over and find that his pale cheeks are streaked with tears. He looks out the window when you catch his eye. “Oh.”

            “Yeah. In fact, here we are.”

            “God f—” His brother hits the wheel. The door is wide-open. “Maybe she’s still in there. I’m going to look.”

            He grabs his katana and jumps out, sprinting inside. You all wait patiently, but it’s been five minutes and he still hasn’t come back out. John lets out a cry and hits the back of Dave’s seat urgently. “Those things are behind us!!!!”

            Dave swings around and you can’t see his eyes behind his shades, but you figure that they are as wide as yours. “Fuck, what do we do?”

            He locks the doors and rolls up the windows as if that would keep them out.

            “Dave, I believe the best thing to do at this moment is drive away.” Rose is shaking.

            “I don’t know how to fucking drive, Rose!” he is trembling, too.

            “That language isn’t going to help right now.” They begin to bicker.

            “I can drive.” They don’t hear you and the things are getting closer and your heart is beating faster. “I CAN DRIVE!!!!”

            They look at you in surprise. “What about Bro?”

            “I don’t think he’s coming out, Dave.” John says.

            “Don’t say that!” Dave yells.

            “Dave, calm down!” You yell back—which doesn’t help the situation. Everyone starts shouting at one another until a bloody hand smacks against John’s window and he yelps and you dive over the center console and shift into drive and step on the gas. Okay, you have your license, but you _really suck_ at driving, so this may not go well. Dave is slapping your thigh and shouting “What about Bro?!” and John is smacking your seat begging you to drive— _which you are_ —and Rose is trying to calm everyone down. Dave is right next to your ear and he’s actually crying—what the heck—but you push his head away with quite some force and pull the car out of the neighborhood and down the street. He looks at you with a painful expression of betrayal especially since you accidentally broke his glasses when you shoved his face away. Is this what happens when you leave four teenagers alone in a life-threatening situation? You’re going to have to work on _not_ acting like stupid five year olds if you get out of this. Everyone has fallen silent as you speed around a corner onto a dirt road.

            “Where do I drive?” you question quietly.

            “Just keep driving until we get to the next town. Maybe someone can help us there.” John responds. Dave is silent and stares out the window.

            “Someone has to help us…” Rose peers over your shoulder out the windshield. It’s just a long stretch of country and you don’t know where the next town is. There are no signs.

           

            Half an hour later, you hear a sputter and the car jolts. “Oh no…”

            It comes to a halt in the middle of the road and there’s nothing for you to do but unbuckle. “The tanks empty.”

            “Great. We’re in the middle of fucking nowhere, too.” Dave unbuckles and flings the car door open. He grabs his bag from under the seat and slings his katana over his shoulder. “Let’s see if anyone’s home over there.”

            He gestures toward a farmhouse a little ways ahead. Everyone grabs their bags and starts to walk. Your feet start aching halfway there. Dave is way ahead of everyone else, purposely distancing himself, and he is acting so childish it honestly shocks you. John isn’t acting like that—nor is Rose. You don’t mention it, though. He’ll come around.

            No one answers the door, so you kick it open after several tries even though Dave told you not to. The house is empty. The owners must’ve left.  “We need to sleep because in the morning we’re leaving. We can’t stay here.”

            “Why not?” John asks.

            “We need to get to a town and get help, like you said earlier.”

            “This is breaking in.”

            “John, can you find some food and make some dinner?”

            “Y-yeah…” He trudges to the kitchen.

            “Now we are _stealing_ , Jade?”

            “They aren’t even here. They are gone. Obviously they don’t care.”

             “Okay, now this isn’t us.”

            “I don’t know what to tell you, Dave.”

            “Tell me that you’re going to pull your head out of your ass.”

            “ _Excuse me_?”

            “You _drove_ away.”

            “Your brother wasn’t coming out and they were _on us_!” you hit your hand. “It was either us or him and I acted in the spur of the moment because it’s what he would’ve wanted and it was to protect _us_! And—and you need to figure that out now—that things are going to be different now and the walk in the fucking park is _over_.” You stand on your toes and grab his collar, pulling him close. He glares at you. “We have _all_ lost someone we cared for today and I don’t want us losing anyone else. _We_ are a family now— _Rose, John, me, and you_ —and _we_ are all that matters from this minute forward.”

            His eyes soften and you take a breath, letting go of his shirt. “I’m sorr—I’m sorry.” You shake your head and pinch the bridge of your nose. That was stupid of you. Now you feel horrible.

            He nods. “Me too.”

            Rose is frozen on the stairs, looking over the two of you with a calculating gaze. “Are the both of you finished quarreling like a married couple?”

            Dave narrows his eyes, but then pauses and replies, “Yeah. I hope we are.”

            “I’m sorry.” You say again. Rose walks away into the kitchen and you go to follow her, but Dave catches your hand and tugs you back.

            “Thank you,” he grimaces. You wait for him to let go, but he doesn’t. He holds your stare.

            “What?”

            “Look…I’m going to…I’m going to keep us safe, okay? I’ve been an asshole for awhile now and you were right—I need to get my priorities straight. I need to grow up.”

            You break his glance and bite your lip before meeting it again. You nod and he squeezes your hand before letting go. Turning away, guilt still nipping at your heart, you step into the kitchen with Dave at your heels.

             John looks anxiously between you and Dave as he serves dinner. No one says anything and it’s hard. There has never been a fight between your friends before. You hope that it will be alright.

            After dinner, you settle into the upstairs bedrooms even though it’s disturbing sleeping in a stranger’s bed. Rose is next to you when you fall asleep, but several times you are awoken by her murmuring in her slumber. You step out into the hallway and sit on the stairs.

            “Can’t sleep?” With a jump, you turn and find Dave lurking in the corner.

            “Rose keeps having nightmares or something.”

            “Yeah.” He sits next to you. “I’m sorry again.”

            “Being tense with one another isn’t helping the group…if we have both forgiven each other…let’s forget that it happened.”

            “That’s fine with me.”

            “Same.” You clear your throat. “So, why are you awake?”

            Dave laughs quietly. “It’s too quiet in there.”

            “We’re all used to the city,” you smile. “All the noise.”

            You suddenly remember the ruckus in the city streets earlier and you’re actually kind of grateful for the silence the countryside offers. 

            “Mhm.”

            You click your tongue lightly before speaking. “I’ll keep you company. Come on, let’s go.”

            Standing up, you tiptoe into the room Dave is sleeping in and roll into the bed. He gets in on the other side, pulling the covers up.  You talk about things not relative to the present and eventually you find that you’re half-asleep after a few moments of no one speaking and Dave is really close and you’re really really hot.

            “Jade?”

            “Hmm?”

            He sighs, “Never mind. Just sleep. Night.”

            And you close your eyes and fall asleep and you’re suddenly on fire and there’s a pinpoint of light at the end of the tunnel darkness but it’s not getting closer even though you’re running and no matter how much you’re running you aren’t making it to the light and you see Dave at the end and he’s pointing a gun at you even though he’s so far away and you scream and scream but the light fades before you see him lower the gun.

 

John

            Jade passes out in the middle of the conference room. The makeshift bed was only a few feet ahead, so it’s easy to drag her over. Her skin is burning hot— _burning hot_ —when you touch her and it makes you frightened.

            “Her fever is super high.” You call Dave over. Roxy lingers over your shoulder. “If it gets any higher she could probably go blind.”

            “Seriously?” Roxy pushes her hair back.

            “Yeah.”

            “What do we do?” Dave frowns. “We’ve only got water bottles and some medicine from the supply raid.”

            “See if there is something that could lower a fever…uh cold medicine maybe? Ibuprofen, I don’t know. She’s also really bundled up which isn’t helping. Roxy help me get some of her clothes off.” Roxy pulls off Jade’s shoes and gloves and you slip her jacket off. You reach down and tug off her socks. “Should we take more off or do you think that’s kinda inappropriate?”

            “If she’s dying because you won’t take her pants off, then I don’t think that’s a problem right now.” Dave sets down a bottle of ibuprofen and covers her forehead with a wet rag. It’s hardly cold.

            “You don’t care because you wouldn’t mind seeing that, David,” Rose sits down and starts to dry Jade’s face off. It’s becoming increasingly whiter.

            “Yeah, maybe you’re right, but that doesn’t matter right now either.” Dave starts pulling Jade’s shirt off gently. “Oh man, I forgot about that…”

            He pulls off the bandage covering her side and winces at the sight of the wound. It’s red and irritated and obviously his first time seeing it because he looks just as surprised as everyone else and then just as sickened as everyone else. There are also a few red bumps that are surrounding the area and that brings more anxiety.

            “Is that just infected or is that _infected-infected_?” Roxy whispers.

Dave’s face has grown pale and he steps away and presses the heels of his hands on his forehead. “ _Fuck_.”

            “M-maybe it’s not,” you can’t help the lump forming in your throat. “Go find some antibiotics in that crate, Rose. It’s…it’s going to be okay!”

            Rose slowly brings back some antibiotics and a syringe. Thank god for the supplies still being in the truck. Dirk makes his way over after helping Jane sit down. Jake follows. “What’s going on with her?”

            He sees the cut and groans. “God dammit, are you kidding?”

            “How long has she had this cut?”

            “A few days…two or so. We got attacked.” Dave shakes his head. “She didn’t seem concerned by it.”

            Dirk is silent for a moment and you wish he would’ve stayed silent. “Dave, she’s going to start losing her mind. You need to put her out.”

            “N-no!” you exclaim.

            Dave freezes and stares at Jade before sucking in a breath of air. “I can’t.”

            “If you need me to, I can do it for you, but you can’t let her suffer.”

            “Just…just give her a day or so, maybe she will pull through.”

            “I haven’t heard of that hap—” Jake nudges Dirk and nods at him. “Fine. One day.”

            “Thank you.” Dave is on the verge of tears, you can tell, and he sits back down next to Jade and takes her hand. You inject the antibiotics into her, even though there’s no hope that they will work.

            Dave pulls her fingers to his lips. “Come back to me, Harley.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm awful, I know. All in good time, though.   
> This fic is almost over, but I'm considering continuing it into a second to finish it. I don't want this to turn into one of those works with 50 chapters, so I'll probably limit it to 10 or lengthen the chapters. I'm already working on Chapter 8.   
> Thank you everyone who is still reading and leaving feedback! I appreciate it. :D 
> 
> Will it turn out fine? I don't know. Guess you gotta wait until the next chapter comes out.


	8. Lungs

CHAPTER EIGHT

John

            The next day goes by rapidly much to your distaste. It’s the first day that you actually wanted to go by slow. You spent most of it sitting and drawing on some old paper you picked up from under the conference table. It wasn’t much of a distraction—you find yourself drawing characters from a comic that you used to read and one of them happens to look like Jade.

            She hasn’t shown any signs of being better, not that you expect her to, and Dirk is starting to grow antsy. Dave won’t even look up at him (master of ignoring people), though eventually Dirk speaks up.

            “Dave. It’s been long enough.”

            “Back off.”

            “You’re just going to make things worse—when she wakes up like one of those—”

            “Stop it, Dirk.” Dave cuts him off. “This is my call and I’m not ready yet.”

            “What if she gets us sick? We don’t know everything about this…”

            “She’s not going to get us sick or else she would’ve already. It’s not like a god damn cold.”

            You watch the two of them argue and you’re slightly afraid that Dave will snap because you saw it before and it can happen again.

            Dirk gets the idea, stepping away with crossed arms. You make your way over to Dave and find a spot next to him, pulling a blanket over your shoulders. “Hey.”

            “Hey, Egbert,” he replies, slight bitterness tinting his words. You know he doesn’t mean to sound rude so you don’t get offended.

            “You’ve been over here a long time…uh…you should probably get up and walk around a bit or eat.”

            “I don’t feel like eating.” He then sighs and looks down at you, “I’m sorry.”

            “It’s fine.” The two of you are silent for a good couple of minutes, Jade’s uneven breathing filling the hush.

            Dave shakes his head, letting out a low, frustrated laugh. “Guess they got it right when they said ‘You don’t know what you’re missing until you lose it’.”

            “Yeah, I guess so—”

            “I mean now that I’m sitting here watching her slip away, it’s like, there are all these things that I wanted to say to her and I keep replaying these conversations in my head that never happened, but they’re _so real_. It stings.” Oh great, he’s going to go off on one of his rambles and it’s your turn to pretend you can actually make out what he’s saying.

            “I keep trying to figure out what the reason is behind this happening and all I keep thinking is that it’s because of me, but she would hit me in the back of the head and tell me that I must’ve gotten brain damage or something ‘let me try to get that sucker back in place’.”

            “Rose said it’s natural for people who are close to someone who got hurt to blame themselves even though it usually isn’t their fault.” You attempt to reason.

            “Keyword ‘usually’,” Dave responds sarcastically. “Point is—”

            “I understand your point, Dave.” With a soft exhale and tapping on the frame of your glasses you say something you might end up regretting, “I…I agree with Dirk.”

            He freezes and you are pretty sure he’s going to go off on you and tell you to go away. Instead, Dave adverts his eyes from yours to Jade, and murmurs, “I don’t want to. But a part of me is agreeing with him, too.”

            Rose kneels down behind Dave and you, placing a thin hand on his shoulder. “It will be okay, David.”

            “She will be someplace way more awesome than here,” you offer, “and don’t have to worry about her being alone.”

            “She will be thrilled to see her grandfather once again,” Rose squeezes his shoulder. Dave is cautiously sifting through the words that are being spoken to him, but you are aware that your words are like sand and they don’t offer any hidden treasures—straining right through the filters of his mind without leaving anything reassuring behind. “Of course, above all, you will still have us, correct?”

            Rose knows that it’s different—not the same. He had a _connection_ —a sort of genuine bond that you don’t know if you could create with him because it’s not something that you can make with your feelings and words—it’s as natural as your lungs creating breathable air and when something that consistent is broken it makes it hard to function correctly. A false lung isn’t equivalent to the one you lost.

            Dave nods. “Alright.”

            “Would it be better if Dirk did it for you like he offered?”

            “No. I just need you guys to leave the room. I don’t want you to see it.”

            Suddenly, you aren’t positive that you trust Dave in alone in a room with a gun right now. He’s unstable and potentially dangerous to himself. Rose doesn’t seem perturbed by leaving him alone, though, so you push the concern to the side.

            “Very well.” Rose stands up and takes your hand. She mutters some words to Roxy and then Jake pulls the barricade away from the door, prompting everyone to file into the hallway except Dave. Dirk has a relieved expression on his face and the part of you that hates his pushy side wants to kick him in the back of his knees. And there you stand, waiting anxiously for the echo of a gunshot.

            You didn’t think you’d hear the shots coming from outside. Everyone is surprised.

            “What in the world was that?” Jane’s eyes are wide.

            “I have no idea—” Dirk is interrupted by the pounding of footsteps coming from the stairwell at the end of the hall. “We _need_ to move. Jake go get Dave and the packs, meet us by the truck.”

            “Aye, aye.” Jake runs back into the room.

            “Wait—you can’t just lea—” you start to exclaim but Rose claps her fingers over your mouth and pulls you down the hallway after Dirk. He leads the way down the opposite stairwell that is thankfully empty and across the first floor to the back of the building. It’s raining outside and water is pooling in the places where the asphalt of the back lot dips down from weathering. The air is cold and you’re glad you still have the blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

            “Those footsteps weren’t from Corrupted. There are soldiers here from the camp.” Roxy points out a truck in idle across the lot that is similar to the one you took. “They probably came after their missing truck.”

            “Guys, get in the truck.” Dirk orders. “Go!”

            You start sprinting towards the truck, water kicking up onto your pants. The soldiers in the other truck notice this and yell, firing their weapons. As you near the truck, pain bursts throughout your shoulder and you tumble forward with an agonized cry and Jane catches you.

            “Got one!” you just barely make out what one of the soldiers holler. You’re mostly aware of your nerves shrieking in _horror_ and your vision keeps going out of focus and then refocusing.

            “John, are you okay?!” Jane’s voice is shaky.

            “Oh god, I don’t have the _keys_!” Dirk smashes his fist into the side of the truck. “They’re up in the room.”

            “I…I know how to get it started.” You groan and slowly stand, using the truck as an aid and cover.

            “Break the window and pull the lock up,” Roxy suggests.

            “What and set off the alarm and draw all the Corrupted over here?”

            “Well, then we better hope Jake gets out here and grabs the bag with the key in it.” Jane says just as Jake and Dave swing open the heavy metal door. Bullets ricochet off of it.

            “Blast it!” A very aggravated Jake yells. He has a few backpacks thrown over his shoulders just like Dave does. Except Jake’s not crying and Dave is.

            They bolt across to the truck and drop the backpacks. Jake gives Dirk the keys who unlocks the truck and everyone throws the bags in the back before jumping in. Rose pulls you inside of the truck right as Dirk takes off driving. He miraculously dodges any bullets besides one that takes off the front headlight. He speeds out of the town and down country roads until you had to have lost them before lowering his speed to below 60.

            Dave has his face pressed into the back of the driver’s seat and Roxy is putting pressure on your shoulder which hurts like hell and you have to grit your teeth to keep from screaming. Rose’s hand is in yours and you guiltily squeeze the heck out of it. She doesn’t mind, thankfully.

            “Where are we going?” Jane is sitting in the front seat with Jake and Dirk—the middle console, pushed up and making a center seat.

            “I have no idea, but we need to get help or else John’s going to bleed out back there.” Dirk answers.

            “Well, luckily the bullet didn’t get lodged in,” Roxy says. “So we won’t have to figure out how to remove it. We just need to keep it from getting infected.”

            “Jake, did you manage to bring the bag containing the antibiotics?” Rose inquires.

            “I hope so. I didn’t manage to grab all of the bags, though.”

            “They should be in a blue bag with red zippers.” Jane starts going through the bags at Jake’s feet. “It’s not up here.”

            Rose looks around, “David, it’s by your feet, can you pl—”

            “I wouldn’t recommend talking to him, Miss Lalonde.” Jake interrupts. “He kept yakking when I dragged him out of the conference room.”

            “I wasn’t ‘yakking’—I was telling the truth!” Dave mutters before pushing the bag over to Rose. He wipes his face on his jacket.

            “Telling the truth about what?” Roxy looks at him.

            “She _looked_ at me and said my name! She _opened her eyes_!”

            Jake takes off his glasses and rubs his face anxiously.

            Your groaning pauses and you look up at Dave, a lump growing in your throat. “Did you shoot her?”

            Dave’s expression melts into a remorseful one. “No.”

            “ _What_?” Dirk’s grip on the wheel tightens.

            “Jake dragged me out before I could—you can’t blame me!”

            “If you had only done it hours ago when I _told you_ to, then it wouldn’t be an issue! Now she’s going to wake up insane!”

            “She should have gone crazy already!! I’m telling you—she _woke up_ and said ‘Dave?’ as clear as fucking day! But then Cargo-pants over there had to throw a backpack at me and push me outside!”

            “Did you really throw a backpack at him?” Roxy raises an eyebrow.

            “H-he wouldn’t move,” Jake answers regretfully.

            “Well, I think that you’re mind is playing tricks on you. Showing you what you want to see instead of what’s really happening which is Jade being infected and either dying or going insane.” Dirk replies and you have to admit he’s kind of being a jerk. “Rose, what do you think? You said you studied a bunch of psychology stuff.”

            “Oh, well yes, but I—”

            “Am I right?”

            “Not precisely, but I suppose that there is a chance that you are correct. I would like to believe him, though, since he seems very convinced.” Rose hesitates. “I don’t appreciate being put on the spot, by the way.”

            Silence settles over the truck and you let the sound of gravel under tires lull you to sleep. Your shoulder hurts really badly. But so does your heart.

 

            When you wake up, your shoulder is bandaged and you are in a bed. You glance down and finger the sheets budded with pink and blue roses that are pulled up to your chest.

            Looking around, the room is blurry because you aren’t wearing your glasses, but you can make out a window with flowing, yellow curtains and a set of closet doors. Sitting up, you find your glasses on the bedside table so you slide them on and take your time getting to your feet.

            Where are you?

            You open the door and pause, looking down. Where are your pants?

            Yeah, pants would be good.

            You find them folded and washed (they smell really good) on the window seat. Similar to the bed, it has a flowery-printed cushion padding it and you decide that you’re going to show Jade when you figure out where everyone is because she used to want a window seat—one against French windows that she could push open and plant flowers in a window box right underneath.

            Then you are hit with a sickening jolt—right. She’s not here anymore.

            Slowly, you pull your pants while ignoring the ache in your shoulder. You walk out the door and the pads of your feet cling to the hardwood floor on the way downstairs and you think: Wow, this place is _really_ clean.

            At the bottom of the stairs, you see a very cleanly Roxy and she smiles at you.

            “You’re finally awake?”

            “Uh, I guess so.” You look around. “Where are we?”

            “A mansion.”

            “A what?” your eyebrows furrow.

            “Well, we found this huge place and it has these really tall gates around it so it’s safe. Rose said it would be nice if we got the place cleaned up and she was right. It’s totally sweet.”

            “How long have been out?”

            “Hmm…a week maybe?” she shrugs.

            “A _week_?” Holy…

            “Mhm.” Roxy reaches a hand out and ruffles your hair. You offer the smallest possible smile and she adds, “The others are down the hallway to the right in the parlor. Dave’s outside. I think he said he’s pulling the weeds or something. I don’t know.”

            She steps past you and goes upstairs. Pulling _weeds_? When did he become a gardener?

            You walk through a massive front entrance area and pull open a door. Sunlight hits your face and it feels great and horrible at the same time. “Dave?!”

            After closing the door, you run down a couple steps and run forward, following a path that leads around to the back of the yard. There’s a carriage house to the right and a…hedge maze? What is this? Alice in Wonderland?

            To the left there is a small greenhouse and that also hurts because Jade really liked gardening. Shhhhuuuttt uppp, John. Stop thinking about her!!!!! 

            There’s a bucket of weeds in front of the hedge maze which gives you the idea that Dave went inside, so you do too. It’s heavily overgrown and hard to maneuver through, but you find the center (mostly by cheating and just pushing through bushes) and you also discover Dave sitting on a stone bench that is partially covered in moss. You sit next to him and _also_ find that he’s smoking and you instantly start wondering where he got cigarettes from.

            “Are you _smoking_?” You question in disbelief.

            “Well, hello to you too.” Dave is wearing a red shirt and his usual jeans. “And yeah.”

            “When did you start smoking?”

            “Yesterday.”

            “Why would you start smoking? That’s really gross, Dave.”

            “I don’t know. I just found a bunch in the office upstairs.” Dave glances over at you before continuing, “And I figured: Why the hell not?”

            “Maybe because you’re going to lung cancer and die.”

            He chuckles and shakes his head. “Is there a better way to die anymore?”

            You have to think about that for a moment and then you realize you aren’t sure how to reply so you counter with: “My doctor told me that it only takes one cigarette to become addicted to smoking.”

            That sounded stupid. Dave grins wearily regardless and nudges your arm. “Whatever, one won’t kill me.”

            “Actually—”

            “No, shh.” Dave cuts you off. He then allows the cigarette fall onto the ground, stepping on it.

            “Are you feeling okay?” You watch as his face falls somber for a moment before returning to normal—the right corner of his lips quirking up in a very slight smirk.

            “Am _I_ feeling okay? You’re the one who got _shot_ in the shoulder.”

            “I am fine, Dave. But don’t dodge my question.”

            “I…I’m not over it if that’s what you’re getting at.”

            “That’s understandable.”

            He nods. “In all honesty, Egbert, I don’t know if I will get over it. Like I got over my brother—sort of—but I really don’t know. Harley…she’s a different story.”

            You swallow before asking, “Did you really see her wake up?”

            Dave looks you in the eye and nods. “I sure as hell did.”

            “Maybe…maybe we can go back to her.” You offer. “I mean Dirk can’t control us—we can do what we want!”

            “It wouldn’t really make a difference. Either way, she’s dead.” Dave gestures with his hands. He lifts his left one, “One possibility: the soldiers found her and put a bullet between her eyes,” he lifts his right hand, “Second possibility: The infection killed her or she went crazy which in my opinion is pretty much the equivalent.”

            “But you’ve always got to think about the ‘what ifs’—like ‘what if she is still alive?’” You point out, trying to be positive.

            “I’ve got to give you credit, John, for always being the glass-half-full, bright-side guy who fries his eggs sunny-side up and slaps a bacon-smile underneath, but even you’ve gotta see the obvious here.” Dave pushes his fingers back through his hair. “I mean I appreciate the effort…I  just can’t wrap my head around the possibility because I can feel her being gone.”

            “Huh?”

            “Like in my chest or heart or whatever. Yeah, it sounds like someone in a chic-flick would say, but I wake up at 5:30 every morning and it’s an ache that doesn’t go away.”

            “…You mean heartache?”

            “No—well, yeah, but I mean it hurts more than that. Like my chest feels really heavy—”

            “Anxiety? Stress?”

            “ _No_!”

            “Broken heart?”

            “God that sounds so girly,” He facepalms, “But I guess that’s the word I’m looking for. I just didn’t want to say it.”

            “That’s also understandable.”

            “It doesn’t make sense, though, I don’t think? We weren’t dating or anything.”

            “You don’t have to date to experience that when someone dies.”

            “Yeah…,” Dave shakes his head. “I’m trying to stay positive, y’know? I don’t need to bring everyone else down by radiating manic-depression.”

            You nod and smile at him. “It…it will be fine.”

            He smiles at you half-heartedly. “Yeah.”

            After a pause, he stands up and stretches out his back. “Well let’s get inside. They think I’m still pulling weeds out. I gave up like twenty minutes ago.”

            “Lead the way.”

 

 

Dave

            So you’re starting a new life here. Well, at least that’s what the group decides. Staying in a mansion isn’t really your style, but it feels safe. Almost like paradise, maybe? Of course it’s super creepy since you found the owners freshly dead in one of the bedrooms (one must’ve gotten infected so the one killed the other and then killed themselves) and guess who’s got to sleep in that room? Yeah. You.

            At least it’s not haunted or anything—you hope—and it’s safe. Not to mention it’s stocked-full of supplies that’ll probably last a few months (the couple did a good job protecting the place)—except for the water. Someone will have to go on runs to the river a few miles away to bring back some water to boil. Another downside is that there’s a town about one hour away. But otherwise, this place will work. Better than any quarantine zone or safe haven that you’ve seen.

            It’s comfortable, it’s clean, but it’s not where your heart is. It’s not home. The mansion doesn’t feel that way to you, anyway. It’s been a month and you’re still not used to the fact that you can sit down and take naps whenever you want to and you find yourself thinking: _Goddamn. Only a little bit further and you could’ve given Jade an in-real-life Barbie Dream House (even though it’s not pink, but she hated pink anyways) to live in_.

            Jane and John do most of the cooking and Roxy and Rose do the cleaning. You and Dirk and Jake just clean around the yard as much as you can and make sure that the place is secure (chains binding the gate shut is efficient enough for now).

            And then when it’s a couple more months later and it finally gets warmer out, you celebrate Jane and John’s birthday because you found a box of cake mix in one of the cabinets. The cake tasted awful since you dropped it upside-down in the ashes of the fireplace where you do the cooking (it’s a neat old-fashioned one—you think the previous owners had a knack for antique stuff), but it was pretty great otherwise except there’s always that ‘pretty’ before the great and you don’t know when things are finally going to be ‘great’.

            Everything was going _pretty_ great until you heard rattling on the front gate and yelling at one in the freaking morning.

            You swing your legs over the side of your bed and stand up, walking out the door and down the hall to Dirk’s room. Opening the door, you find that he’s already awake so you move aside for him.

            “Should we ignore it or go see what’s going on?” You inquire, rubbing your eyes.

            “Well, I’m not in the mood for anything getting in here, so let’s go check it out.” Dirk leads the way outside, grabbing his katana out of the umbrella stand. And when you walk outside you hear voices screaming for help and you don’t want to deal with this right now.

            On the other side of the gate there are about 6 people and further down the road there are a few Corrupted wandering from the direction of the town. They see you and bang more, like that’s going to do anything to help the situation. “Are any of you infected or sick?”

            “No!” a man answers. “Please, let us in.”

            “Where are you from?” Dirk interrogates, ignoring the laughter of the Corrupted not too far away.

            “The town that is a few miles from here. There was a zone there and we got attacked by another zone—destroyed our defenses. Come on let us in, we will only be here until morning—we will even sleep outside, come on!”

            Great. That means that they aren’t the only ones that will probably stumble across the mansion. Dirk moves forward and unlocks the gate, letting the people inside. They all run inside and Dirk quickly secures the gate again. There is one kid who is crying.

            “Get inside. The Corrupted will find something more interesting and wander off in a while.”He guides them up to the mansion and then into the second living room. “If any of you are caught doing anything suspicious, you’re out. Stay in here until morning.”

            Dirk closes the curtained French doors and locks them. You shoot him a look. “You’re locking them in there?”

            “I’m not letting strangers wander around here. They could take our stuff and then book it out of here.”

            “They have a kid with them.”

            “Which gives them the exact motivation to steal whatever they need to help it survive.” Dirk walks upstairs and disappears into his room. You do the same.

 

            The next morning, you share breakfast with the strangers and they turn out to be pretty friendly. There’s a boy who’s your age with coppery hair and freckles and there’s the kid who was crying last night who is five. Everyone else is older and very chatty. The boy is no better, you guess, because he keeps asking one of the adults when they can go back to look for his friend and is really noisy.

            You ask him about his friend and he tells you about her—how she’s really nice and has a dog and how sometimes she can be really crazy. They got separated when their section got bombed by their rival zone. It’s hard to believe that anyone would be stupid enough to be fighting with each other when there are bigger problems in the world, but the boy said that that’s exactly it: They were fighting over supplies.

            “We also had a vaccine.”

            “A what?”

            “Well, if the infected person wasn’t too far gone—like less than a week-old infection—we could inject them with this vaccine that kills off the infection. It only works on some people though and the person will still have brain damage, but it’s better than turning into a Corrupted or dying.”

            “Are you kidding me?”

            “No way! Why would I be lying!” he exclaims. “It takes a long time for it to work though, but my friend helped with it.”

            “Helped?”

            “Yeah, they ran a whole crap-load of tests on her and they finally figured out a way to fight it. But like I said—it’s flawed and doesn’t work for everyone. And it still leaves the person damaged in the head.”

            “Damaged how?”

            “If they’re infected for a long time before getting the vaccine, then they have some memory-loss or come down with something weird. I don’t know, like my friend passes-out a lot and once in awhile hallucinates. That’s why I had to look after her, y’know?”

            “How’d she get infected?” you raise an eyebrow at him.

            “No idea. She didn’t remember how so we don’t know. The scientists said that she just showed up at the zone a few months ago and then surprisingly took her into the labs. She was lucky they didn’t freaking dissect her or something.”

            “Gross.”

            “Yeah. I’m related to one of the scientists that ran tests on her. My dad. I don’t know where he is now though.” The boy scowled.

            “You didn’t share the vaccine with anyone?”

            “No, we kept it to ourselves—it was still being tested on. Then the other zone found out and got ticked-off and interested and decided that they wanted it for themselves. That’s how it all went down.”

            “I’m sorry about your dad,” you reply.

            “What can you do about it? It’s nothing new.”

            “Yeah.”

            After breakfast, the group thanks you and leaves and you wonder about that vaccine. It could save so many people. The other zone probably has their hands on it now.

            “I wonder where that zone is.” Roxy says.

            “It sounds like they know what they’re doing. And they’ve got the resources.” Jake nods.

            “And a vaccine,” you add.

            “Maybe things will get turned around in this world after all,” Jane starts cleaning up the kitchen.

            “Who knows if that vaccine really works, though. The infection could come back.” Dirk points out, being his usual negative self.  

            If only she had lasted a bit longer, she may have had a chance. You slightly regret letting the strangers inside. That information about a vaccine being made soon after Jade was lost was something you could’ve gone without.  It’s not something that you want to think about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting closer to the end.


	9. Atavistic

JULY

Dave

            It’s so fucking hot.

            That’s the only thought running through your head right now and you miss air-conditioning a lot. It’s especially hot with everyone gathered in this same room discussing the amount of supplies you have remaining. Food is running low. Water has to be fetched from the river every week. The others thought it would be easy settling down—they planted a garden, not only in the greenhouse, but out in the yard as well, and set traps in the woods surrounding the mansion. It was lucky and it was hopeful, but hope never lasts and luck runs out before you even reach the light at the end of the tunnel.

            The plants in the yard are gradually dying despite the extra water spent on replenishing their thirst. They just don’t stand a chance against the sun. The population of nearby wild animals is diminishing because they too are the prey of the Corrupted. Only the medical supplies is at a good level since it’s easy to stay safe being locked in gates for months on end.

            “We need to start going on runs.” Roxy’s fingers are pressed against her temples.

            “It’s been a year since everything happened. Everywhere has probably been picked through already,” Jake points out.

            “I’m super aware of that, but there’s not much we can do besides try.” She counters. The tips of her ears are growing red.

            This is how life here has been since about mid-May. Constant bickering. You have even fallen victim to the negativity. John tries to fix everything though and break them up…he has always been the reasonable one and he knows what to say to make things right.

            “I agree with Roxy,” Dirk says.

            “As with me,” Rose adds.

            You don’t give much input to the group meetings anymore, finding them stressful and boring. In fact, you wouldn’t mind spending some time away from here.

            “If we go on a run, I volunteer,” you push your bangs back off your forehead.

            “Me too.” John says.

            Roxy stands up, “Alright, I’m coming with you, too.”

            Jake frowns at you and you just stand up and look away.

            “The rest of you keep things going here.”  You walk out of the room with John at your heel. Grabbing a backpack, you fill it with a few days worth of supplies and pick up your katana (still your weapon of choice, of course). There’s also a revolver tucked in your belt near the small of your back, but that is for emergency use only. Now it’s your goal to just get out of this place as fast as you can.

            When Roxy and John are prepared, you start the truck and head towards the town where that group came from a few months back. Gas is probably something else you should look for.

           

            “Keep your eyes peeled.” You order as the truck pulls into the trashed town. Rubble and garbage are everywhere and a section of the road is cracked and split in half—a huge crevice in the middle. There are dead bodies in it. Carefully, you maneuver the truck around it and drive deeper into the town, which is sort of dangerous.

            “We should go on foot from here,” John nudges your shoulder from the backseat. You turn off the car and get out, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

            “Let’s start with this liquor store,” Roxy points out.

            “Why do you look so excited?” John questions her.

            “No reason,” she shrugs and smiles at him.

            You look around. The town is silent. Hopefully it stays like that.

            Roxy steps over the bottom sill of a window that had all the glass broken out. Most windows are like that in the towns and cities. You do the same and hear shards of the glass crunch under your shoes.

            “It does look pretty empty,” John observes, picking up some cardboard boxes. He hops over the counter and goes through some drawers. Your hearing perks up at the sound of metal clinking against metal and John holds up some ammo. “Found this, though.”

            “And this,” Roxy steps out with a grin, displaying a bottle of rum and you almost roll your eyes at her.

            “As much as we could all use a drink, our focus is more on food.” You pull on the handle of the back storeroom, but it’s locked. Picking it doesn’t prove to be much of an issue with your knife and you go to open the door, but someone steps out towards you swinging their arm with a snarl and you suddenly are aware of why the door was locked. You fall on your back, hitting your head against a shelf hard enough for stars to speckle your vision. There’s hardly enough time to lift your own arms up to hold the Corrupted away from you. It’s one of those moments where you were one second away from having a huge bite of flesh taken out of your shoulder or neck and then it would be all over, but thankfully John dives into action, planting his knife right through the Corrupted man’s eye. He then grabs him and flings him against the wall, his fingers in the man’s hair and then suddenly there’s blood coating the wall. You groan and look away.

            “Thanks.”

            John is breathless, leaning against the counter. “Of course.”

            “Heyyyy, there’s food in here.” Roxy’s voice echoes inside of the storeroom. You kind of just crawl inside because your head is throbbing and unzip your bag.

            “Start loading up.”

            You reach into dusty cardboard boxes and pull out packaged foods. There are a lot of Twinkies. God, you hate Twinkies. But there are honey buns and you haven’t had those in forever so you dig into one right then and there like the horrible person you are. John grins at you, regardless, and you give him half. It’s sweet and sticky and better than the bags of beef jerky that you usually snack on back at the mansion.  

            When you regain your strength from hitting your head (it still aches, but is manageable), you lead the way out of the liquor store, hopping back out of the window. Cars litter the streets at random, most complete with dents and scratches and all of them windowless and looted. If there is still gas in them, you don’t have anything to drain it into to take.

            “It would be great to find a gas can.” You mutter as you walk deeper into the city. In the distance, there is a tall, chain-link fence with barbed wire looped along the top. Right inside the fence is a checkpoint.

            “I think this is that zone that was attacked,” John frowns, “Looks like they’re up and going again.”

            He’s right. You see several clouds of smoke rising from the camp.

            “That’s surprising,” Roxy comments.

            “Yeah, really.” You respond. “Let’s not get too close. Just in case those fires aren’t what we think they are.”

            What you said reminds you of a year or so ago when you first started to _notice_ things because observation is a huge key in surviving. Survival is all that matters anymore. But then you think about that as you walk. Is staying alive actually important, like what’s there to live for anymore? For you anyway.

            That’s a stupid thing to think, you conclude. You still have your friends to look after. And even though—

            “Turn down this alley,” Roxy pushes your shoulder gently. “I heard something up ahead so it’s dumb to be walking in the middle of the street.”

            You do what she says and John sticks close to you. John’s different now—you see it every time you look at him. He’s grown up. He doesn’t get scared of the dark anymore because he learned how to live with it—to fight it. His dad would be proud of him.

            There’s dry blood coating the building up ahead. You look away, but someone steps in front of the building, gun in her hand. A man falls into place beside her.

            The three of you stop and pull out your own weapons _very_ fast.

            “Drop your weapons and your packs.” The guy on the left says.

            “No way.” You reply bitterly. It wouldn’t be hard to outnumber them. It’s three to two.

            “We will _shoot you._ Do what we say.” The girl grits her teeth and points the barrel of her gun towards your head. John holds his up towards the girl’s, his eyes narrowed into a dangerous glare. You would be taken aback if you weren’t focused on not getting your brains blown out.

            “Just walk away,” Roxy grips her enforcer tightly in her hands. “No one’s gonna shoot anyone.”

            “Yeah, you’re right—if you give us your stuff no one’s going to get hurt.”

            Something hits you in the back from behind and you stumble forward to your knees. What the _hell_?! Your chin hits the asphalt with a thump as someone grabs your wrists and pulls them behind you, tying them with something scratchy. Roxy had noticed before you and John and had ducked forward before spinning around and smashing her gun into the guy standing behind her. He falls with a grunt to his knees and she kicks him in the chest and then shoots the next person all in a mad rush and then the pair that had held you to gunpoint as a distraction start firing at her but John screams from the ground, “RUN!” at her and she takes off out of the alley, zigzagging to dodge the bullets that scream through the air.

            The girl sprints after her, but the man comes over and strikes John in the waist with the toe of his boot and that _pisses you off_. John squirms away.

            “Take them to HQ.”

            “Why not just kill them and take their stuff back?”

            “Because we can just send them to the labs or put them to work.”

            “Will do.” The guy who knocked you down grabs your arms and pulls you to your feet. You spit at him and he raises his arm to slap you. As his arm moves down, you step forward causing him to stumble. He mumbles few profanities in response.

            “Asshole.” You say.

            “Start walking.” He answers. Your chin really hurts and so does your knees. This is bullshit and is not how you wanted this day to go. You would’ve rather ran into a whole fucking crowd of Corrupted than be grabbed by some douche bags that apparently run this whole town. John and you are marched into the zone.

 

ONE WEEK LATER

            They have you under gardening duty. Like really? Do you look like a fucking gardener? John’s doing the same thing. This sucks. They told you that since you didn’t “keep the peace” or whatever that is supposed to mean, you can’t have the same “rights” as “normal” people in the zone do. So you’re stuck maintaining crops for them and cleaning up the streets after them. You also hear rumors among the other workers who didn’t “keep the peace” about how messed up this zone is in particular. Apparently, a lot of people here are kinda crazy and have weird “laws”. If you’re on probation and you act up by not doing as told, then you’re sent to the labs and you are pretty sure that’s not a good thing. And that makes you get the picture of _everything_ that boy was talking about. They didn’t _only_ use his friend to come up with a vaccine—they use(d) people who “aren’t fit” to be living in their zone to test on. It’s horrifying to be honest and you’ve never missed the mansion more.

            You’re kneeling down and scattering seeds in a row of dirt. They’re supposed to be carrot seeds according to the bag they were in, but they won’t actually grow into carrots until around fall—at least that’s what Jade told you a long time ago. She used to keep a vegetable garden in her backyard and would bring you some of her harvest before school started in autumn. You thought it was weird at the time, especially because you hated vegetables, but now you think it was sweet of her. Gardening is hard work and is pretty gross because you can’t get the dirt out from underneath your fingernails very easily.

            “Dinner!” a gruff voice yells from the stone building. It’s actually an old sheriff’s office and they added onto it and built in a bunch of bunks just for “troublemakers” like you. They made you register for the zone when you got in and they said that when you’re off probation, you can live in an apartment and get your own ration cards. You really just want to leave though.

            Even though the supply level in this quarantine zone is high, they don’t feed you very much. It’s hardly anything at all and your stomach burns most of the day. Yet, no one would rebel against them for anything because they have a huge militia that knows what they’re doing. Some are actually reinforcements from the camp that attacked this one a while back—the person in charge of that zone controls this one now, too. It was the deal that was made to fix this one.

            You eat dinner in your bunk and John sits next to you.

            “We’ll get back to the others at some point, okay? We only have a little bit longer to be locked up in this place and then we’ll be out,” you rip your bread into pieces before eating it.

            “ _Out_ out? Because they have this whole zone locked up pretty tight.” John retorts.

            “They can’t keep survivors prisoner in here, John.”

            “People seem to be doing whatever they want anymore,” he sighs and shakes his head, shoving his own slice of bread in his mouth. “Good night.”

            “…Night.” You reply and finish your dinner. Lying back in your bunk, you think about Roxy. Did she make it to the truck in time? God, all you wanted to do was get supplies and all you did was lose supplies. And possibly another friend—but that seems impossible; Roxy is a strong fighter and a fast runner. She probably got away and told Dirk about what happened.

            Eventually, darkness settles in the room and so does everyone else. You close your eyes and fall asleep.

 

 

John

            The streets are practically empty as you make your way towards the market square where people trade their goods with each other. It’s also where the zone citizens trade in their ration cards. It’s your job to accept ration cards and give them a three-day’s worth of food items. This is only your second time doing this job and it’s hard because you have to make sure the cards aren’t counterfeit and that people remain under control. You don’t have any weapons to control people, though. That’s the job of the militia members who stand _everywhere_ in the zone—on rooftops, at corners, in alleyways. Wherever you turn, there is someone ready to shoot you. It’s intimidating.

            When you arrive at the market square, it is bustling with people forming lines and chatting and coughing. Morale is high here. Strangely, the thought scares you.

            You walk up to the ration table, show the volunteers already there your I.D. and they let you behind, show you the goods. The cans and jars are in crates that are stacked up in the room behind you. They open the lines and you begin lifting armfuls of the cans and jars after carefully counting each one and handing them off to people who gave you their ration card. There is a can of peaches in the corner of a crate and you wish you could have some. You haven’t had peaches in a long time.

            Women and men of all ages, a lot with children, reach the front of the line and you don’t look at them. You don’t look at them because you’ve started this weird habit where you start imagining the lives of people before the disease spread. All it takes is one glance at a woman and you will stand there and consider whether she may or may not have been a nurse or teacher, how many more years she had left until she paid off her mortgage or if she had a date with someone the night when her life changed forever. You do it to the Corrupted, too, once you kill them.

            It’s tiring carrying things back and forth, but you get a break during lunch when someone else takes your shift over until you finish. You sit down on the curb away from the lines, leaning back on the siding of a building. It’s cleanly painted and brings back memories from when you used to help your dad paint the shutters of your childhood house. You used to take it for granted—found it more a chore than father-son time and you regret it now. But you know your father is proud of you—you’ve come a long way in only a year.

            Biting down into an apple, you stare up at the sky. It’s a pale blue with some clouds scattered throughout it. Life is nicer outside of safety, you realize. Even though the odds are probably less in your favor and you have a smaller chance of survival, you _learn_. You learn how to fight—how to _live_. You _learn who you are._ You are a remnant of humanity in this world that has been impoverished of its civility and left to abate. A very small remnant but also a very important one.

            You decide to watch the people around you. They are also remnants, but they may not have realized it yet. They tell the citizens here that there is hope yet—that the world is still highly populated, but clustered in other quarantine zones. It’s funny how they believe such a thing.

            There are these kids who probably used to play baseball and whose biggest issue before was keeping their coloring inside of the lines. They would’ve filled their role in a world that practically set you on the path to your future, but now they can’t color inside the lines of a pre-printed picture. They have to be the ones who draw the picture and decide when to color inside the lines or when to take a risk and color outside of them.

            You sigh as a dog pads up to you, tongue hanging out of its mouth. It’s a white husky with dirty fur. The dog seems friendly enough so you hold out your hand and let it sniff your fingers, smiling. “Hey there, buddy.”

            You scratch behind its ears. “Where’s your owner?”

            It licks your hand and then walks away to a girl who just called its name. She is slightly sun-tanned, but you can’t make out any other features. She disappears with the husky into a building. By the name she called it by, you guess it’s actually a he, not an it. Dogs are usually only common in zones to use for hunting anymore. The ones outside are going wild or have been killed by Corrupted.  

            One of the volunteers by the nearest ration stand calls your name. There’s only one hour of ration call left. Better get back to work.

 

 

Dave

            John and you just got finished speaking to the head of the “Police”. He had asked you why you were put on probation, so you told you the truth. He said that the being-held-at-gunpoint-captured-thing is protocol and that since no one really got injured by you, you don’t have to be on probation anymore. You are given a normal I.D. card and a small place to live and ration cards. John, too. He said that you aren’t allowed to leave and that makes you a little creeped-out and angry. _For your own protection_.

            You sign up for surveillance duty and John volunteers to work in the library and teach classes in there. There were a lot of books that managed to stay in a fairly nice condition here and a lot of children that were expected to be educated.

            Surveillance duty is alright. You are placed on the street corner by the market-square where a lot of civilians gather and chat. They issued you sunglasses similar to ones you wore a long time ago (you’re never going to take them off), a bulletproof vest, and a weapons belt. The HQ also assigned you a dog-partner instead of a partner that you can talk to without looking crazy. Your dog is also kind of dumb—it has an obsession with rubbing its head on the side of the brick wall that is behind you and spends most of the day growling at you.

            Sometimes people come up to chat. They are friendly and seem to have full faith in you. It’s so different than the last zone you were in where the people were suspicious of the guards and leadership. Many of those here haven’t even been out of the walls and many have started families.

            Around lunchtime, a white dog walks through the groups of people over to your dog. Instantly, your dog starts growling at the white dog who in reply tilts its head to the side. It steps back as yours jumps forward at the dog.

            “Are you fucking kidding me?” you reach out to grab the collar of the dog as someone else’s fingers hook around the white dog’s collar. After pulling your dog away, you glance up. “Hey, I’m really sorry. We’re both new to the job.”

            The girl smiles and there’s something familiar about it. “It’s fine. What’s your dog’s name?”

            “I’m not entirely sure, but I think its name is Asshole.”

            She laughs and bends over to pet it. “Asshole?”

            “Yeah, it’s rather fitting in my opinion.”

            “Well, hey there, Asshole. I forgive you for attacking Reb.”

            “Reb?”

            “That’s my dog’s name. I found him outside the zone.” She stands back up and holds out a lightly-tanned hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Guard.”

            You shake it. “Nice to meet you, too, uh…?”

            “The people here call me Hope.”

            “That sounds like a stripper name. Like no offense. But okay, nice to meet you, Hope. I’m Dave.”

            She rolls her eyes. “Whateverr, Dave. I used to know someone with the same name.”

            “Yeah?” You look her over. She has dark hair that’s choppily cut short that curls at her temples. It doesn’t fit the shape of her face and gives her an almost boyish appearance. She wears jeans that are torn on one knee and a gray t-shirt.

            “Mhm.”

            “What happened to him?”

            “Dunno.” Hope shrugs.

            “Why do people call you Hope?” you question. She looks up at you with a slight grin and starts to walk away.

            “Shouldn’t you already know?”

            “What? No, I just got here. Where are you going?”

            “I have work soon. If you really care to know, just ask around.” Hope and her dog disappear into the crowd of people. You can’t shake the feeling that she’s familiar. You glance down at Asshole who is staring you down expectantly.

            “Stop staring at me.”

 

            Days and nights pass by until it is Friday and your curiosity about Dirk and the others steadily grows. It is towards the end of your shift and the scorching sun that is beating down on your skin made you tired quickly.

            You were about to leave your post for the day when a white dog traipses over, a thin layer of mud covering its paws. The dog is shortly followed by Hope, wearing a different outfit than sh did a few days ago: a gray t-shirt with a hole in the bottom hem and jeans that have a slight rip over one thigh. It is surprising that she is wearing something different because usually you only have one outfit these days. She must be quite spoiled since she lives in the HQ.

            “Hey, are you done for today?” she asks, smiling up at you. Her bangs are pushed off of her forehead by a folded, red bandana.

            “Yeah, I was about to go to my apartment,” you respond casually, nudging Asshole with your foot to wake him up.

            “Or you could come with me. I have something to show you,” Hope pauses, “if you can keep a secret.”

            “Sure,” you step off of the curb and fall into step with the girl. “Am I allowed to go into that part of HQ?”

            “If you’re with me, then it’s not an issue.” She glances over at you. Your eyes meet for a moment before you get an anxious tingling in your stomach that causes you to instead look around at the bustling people around you. They are tending trading stands, having conversations, and doing laundry. Most are smiling.

            Hope leads you through a cloud of smoke from a bonfire and beyond a checkpoint gate. The soldiers don’t even ask to see either of your I.D.s, they just stand idle like statues with their semi-automatics. The two of you step inside the large, brick HQ building.

            Once inside, there’s a mirror to the right that reflects sunlight onto the wall behind you. Turning towards it, you see yourself in the glass, hardly recognizing yourself. Your hair is much lighter and a little shaggier than it once was and your skin is tanned by hours spent in the sun. It is a foreign sight to you. Before, you were always pale due to the fact that you barely left your home. You look so much more tired, dark circles decorating your under-eye.

            “It’s interesting, huh?” the girl interrupts your thought-process. You look at her, puzzled.

            She continues, “It didn’t just change us up here,” she taps her temple. “It changed our appearance, too.”

            When you don’t say anything, Hope smiles once more, wrapping an index finger and thumb around one bony wrist. “Diet of the year. Doctors are _dying_ to learn the apocalypse’s secrets.”

            With a short laugh and shake of your head, you retort, “Funny.”

            You follow Hope to the bottom of a stairwell where she opens a heavy-looking door and hits a light-switch. Inside the room, there are shelves and shelves stocked full of boxes that contain supplies. “Ever wonder where we keep the food?”

            “I had some ideas,” you mutter. Asshole and her dog start sniffing at one of the cardboard boxes, but Hope snags your arm and pulls you deeper into the room, guiding you to a door that heads down to a cellar. She pulls a string on the ceiling resulting in the small room to have a sickly glow. The floor is dirt-packed, but lined against the walls are racks of alcohol. A lot of alcohol.

            “Holy shit,” you take a step back, surprised. “That’s a lot of alcohol.”

            She grins and nods. “I know right.”

            “They don’t some of this for medical purposes?”

            “Sometimes, I guess, but this is the leader’s stash.” Hope pulls a bottle from a shelf. “I figured that we could use some more than he could. Come on.”

            She runs back up the stairs with you and the dogs at her heel up to her room. It looks like it was once a conference room, but now it has a small cot in one corner and a box of belongings against a storage closet. Hope sits on the quilt-covered mattress, the bottle of wine in her arms. You find a place next to her.

            “I don’t know how to open this,” she declares.

            “You haven’t had wine before?”

            “Nope.”

            You hesitate for a moment before smiling a bit. “Me neither.”

            “Try using your knife.”

            “Do you have a trashcan or something? In case this overflows.”

            “Over there,” she gestures to a trashcan full of crumpled papers by the door. You hold the bottle over it and after a few attempts using your knife to twist and pry the cork out, you hear the successful _pop!_

            “Got it,” you bring it back over to her. “Lady’s first.”

            “I think you’ve got the wrong person,” she giggles, but takes a sip from it, her face instantly scrunching up. “This is so gross, but not bad at the same time.”

            “So I’ve heard.” She passes it and you take a drink, too. It bubbles up and burns on the way down, leaving a sticky taste behind on your taste buds. The both of you lean back against the wall. “So why did you want to share a drink with me?”

            Hope shrugs and responds, “You’re the only person I’ve met that doesn’t think I’m insane.”

            “Well, are you?”

            She furrows her eyebrows, lips resting on the opening of the bottle. “I’m not sure.”

            “You’re not sure?” you inquire. She takes a slow drink before answering.

            “I think we are all crazy. Even if we don’t want to admit it.”

            “And why’s that?”

            “Because we refuse to die even though the rest of the world is pretty much. We are too stubborn to let the world turn us into a history lesson that won’t be told again.” Hope stares up at the ceiling. “We can’t let go.”

            You suck in a breath of air and don’t answer.

            After a few long minutes of just the two of you staring at the peeling ceiling, you finally formulate a reply.

            “‘To fear death is no other than to think oneself wise when one is not, to think one knows what one does not know. No one knows whether death may not be the greatest of all blessings for a man, yet men fear it as if they knew that it is the greatest of evils’.”

            “Who said that?” Hope looks up at you.

            “Socrates.”

            She nods. “How did you remember that?”

            “I am excellent at remembering things. Too excellent.” You frown.

            “Memories can cause a lot of problems.”

            “Yeah, tell me about it.” She hands you the bottle and you take a long drink, finding pleasure in the burn this time.

            “Better?”

            “Yeah.” Your head was starting to feel fuzzy, the blood running through your veins more slowly.

            “Tell me about yourself.”

            “What do you want to know? I used to—”

            “Not the you before. The you now,” she cuts you off.

            “Oh, well, I guess…” you take a breath. “I was travelling with friends and we got separated. Now I only have one left who’s here with me.”

            You blink and add, “I’m not sure what you want me to say.”

            “What do you like to do?”

            “I like to listen to music, but that’s hard to do now.”

            “We have concerts on Wednesdays in the dinner hall,” Hope informs. “Anyone can perform.”

            “Really?”

            “Yupp!”

            “I’ll have to check it out, then.”

            “Are you going to perform?” she interrogates.

            “Nah. I mean, I do some singing and guitar, but I’m probably super rusty.”

            “I get it.”

            “How about you?” you ask. “What’s your story?”

            “Didn’t I tell you to ask someone else?”

            “I wanted to get it from you—figured it’s probably been twisted about five-hundred times.” You retort.

            Hope smirks and shakes her head. “All I can tell you is that I woke up here with a bad headache and an interesting reputation.”

            “Don’t you remember anything from before you woke up?”

            “Sure, I do. Some of it, anyway,” she replies solemnly. “I just remember struggling to get through with some friends—same as anyone else’s story. And then I got infected and then I found Reb and he helped me find this place. Now I’m here.”

            “Holy fuck, wait what?” your eyebrows raise above the frames of your sunglasses. “ _Infected_? Like Corrupted infected?”

            Hope looks surprised at your reaction and nods. “Y-yeah.”

            “How are you alive?”

            “They used me to find a cure. And saved me.” She adverts her eyes, her shoulders slumping a bit. “That’s why everyone knows me and why I live here. I’m still under observation.”

            “It’s just that…out of _all the infected before me_ , why was I the one who was able to be saved? It’s not fair and I didn’t deserve it. I was the reason the zone was attacked and why a bunch of innocent people were killed.”

            You shake your head in disbelief, suddenly recalling what that boy had once said about a girl who helped the zone find a vaccine.

            “What about your friends?”

            “Dead.”

            “How do you know?”

            She rubs her forehead with the side of her hand, eyes closed. “Because every night when I go to sleep I just see them die over and over and over again. It’s scary but it’s what I live with because I can’t stop holding onto the hope that things will get better.”

            “Working with the kids helps out,” Hope continues. “How they think that the world is normal and they have nothing to worry about. They are still okay…uncorrupted by the infection and the world. It’s nice to see even if you know what’s actually out there.”

            You’re not completely aware of why, but you find yourself fighting the urge to grab her trembling hands in your more steady ones, though you give up fighting and take them anyway. Her hands are soft and you tighten your grip on them to stop the shaking.

            “I…I think the kids have a right to think that.”

            “You do?” she questions with a light voice.

            “Yeah. Things are going to be okay.” You say confidently, even though it’s not necessarily true. It just feels like the right thing to say and you hope that it is. Where’s John when you need him? “Did you know a kid…short with really pale skin and red hair? Really loud?”

            Her eyes widen and she nods. “Yes, why?”

            “I met him awhile back before I got here. After this zone was attacked.”

            “Was he okay? He was so sweet, I really hope he was okay!” she exclaims.

            “When I last talked to him, he was fine. He was looking for you, though. Said he missed you.”

            “I wonder where he is now.”

            “Guess we’ll never really know. That’s the whole thing, though. You can never really sure. It’s all about theories and hypotheses without the conclusions.”

            “The world is starting over…” Hope trails off.

            “A clean slate.” You give a curt nod.

            “A clean slate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was weakkkkk. Sorry. I will work harder, but school takes up a lot of time. Next chapter will be up soon!


	10. Filipendulous

MONTHS BEFORE

?

            It’s so white when you open your eyes. The first thing that runs through our head is ‘ _am I dead?’_ and the second thing is ‘ _why can’t I move?’_. You feel paralyzed, like something is holding you down and that makes you stop and realize that if you were dead, you’d feel free (you think).

            You frown and try to move your head, but it’s stuck. Your mouth is dry, your throat is sore, and your head is throbbing. Glancing down, you notice that there are leather straps around your wrists and ankles and middle-section, as well as your neck. Are you in a mental institute or something?

            Weakly, you call out, “Hello?”

            There are footsteps from across the room and then someone opens a door, stepping over to you. They are wearing a white lab coat with a blue, plastic clipboard tucked under their arm.

            “Hello.” He introduces himself. “I am Doctor Nate. And you?”

            “I don’t give my name away to strangers.” You groan, struggling to move again.

            “You should be more kind to the one who saved your life. Besides yourself, of course.”

            “What do you mean?” Pausing for a second, you glance up at Dr. Nate with a confused look on your face.

            “You were _infected_ and now you’re _not_. You helped us find a cure, Patient 22 and you are a survivor,” he smiled at you. “We are rather grateful.”

            “Patient 22?” your head is beginning to ache more. “Let me go, I need to go find my friends.”

            “Friends? Dear, you came here alone, besides your dog. We have kept him in safe hands, though, you did not arrive with any friends. I hate to be pessimistic, but they are probably no longer alive.”

            Biting your lip, you really want to refuse to believe that they could all possibly be dead. Once again, you demand, “Let me go. I don’t want to stay here.”

            “You came to us. We can’t let you leave. It’s the zone law.”

            “Then let me get out of this bed.”

            “As long as you promise to take it easy. You’ve been out for months.” _Months?_ Dr. Nate began to unbuckle the straps holding you to the bed. “I apologize about these. It was for security reasons.”

            He helps you stand and has a nurse bring in a wheelchair. “Sit down.”

            “I don’t need a wheelchair, I can walk fine,” you insist.

            “Just sit down. I didn’t walk up three floors to bring you this for you not to use it,” the nurse mutters rather sourly. You give in, taking a seat.

            “Take her to get cleaned up and show her to her room,” the doctor walks out of the room and she does. The elderly nurse hands you stuff to clean up with, along with clean clothes, and gently ushers you inside the bathroom. “Don’t take long.”

 

           

            You stare at yourself in the mirror. Your dark brown hair that is nearly black falls halfway down your back and your skin is the color of a piece of paper. The girl who grimaces back at you reminds you of a vampire. You open your mouth to check for fangs just in case you really are a vampire. Nothing vampire-y in there.

            Your wrists are so thin that you can wrap your fingers around them and you find it to be such a scary concept—being so frail and skinny. The clothes they gave you are a little too big, but you won’t complain, because they fixed your glasses up for you, though you find that you miraculously don’t need them anymore.

            In your room, the clothes you wore when they found you dying are folded on the bed. The soles of the old, brown boots are nearly worn down and the toes are scuffed. Inside your jacket, your pocketknife still resides. They make you nostalgic and sick, feeling like something— _someone_ is absent from your life. You really don’t feel good. Depressed, you guess. You glance at the knife. Suicidal, maybe.

            Picking up the knife, you pull it open and feel the cold metal against your skin and then you walk over to the mirror, staring at yourself again. Your eyes are more tired and dark than you ever remember them being which makes the pit in your chest expand more. You look at the knife. Look at your wrist. Look at yourself again. Raise the knife.

            Instead of bringing it down on your wrist, you take it out on your hair. As much as you wish you could bring it down on yourself, you are too scared to. You begin to cry while you cut off your hair, letting the long strands float to the tile floor and leaving your hair a short, choppy mess. It’s not like you care, though.

            There’s a knock on your door so you drop the knife into the garbage can and open the door. A boy a little younger than you meets your gaze. His hair is the color of fire and tousled in multiple directions.

            “Whoa. What happened to your hair?”

            “I cut it. Who are you?”

            “Kaleb. And you are Hope.” He pauses. “Everyone knows who you are around here.”

            “What?”

            “Everyone calls you Hope. That’s okay, right?” Kaleb shrugs. “I’m Doctor Nate’s son. Nice to meet you.”

            “A-alright…yeah. It’s nice to meet you, too,” you hesitate.

            “You aren’t going to stay in your room all day are you?” he inquired.

            “I’m not supposed to leave HQ…”

            Kaleb smiles slightly and retorts, “Well, we won’t go far. Come on.””

            Wiping your face with your sleeve, you nod. “Okay.”

            Kaleb leads you down the hall to the basement. “Do you like video games?”

            “I guess a little,” you answer. “It’s not like I can really play them anymore, though.”

            “Check this out,” Kaleb pulls out a black Nintendo DS from a drawer. He raises an eyebrow at you and pushes the switch on the side. The power lights turn a bright green.

            “Holy shit,” you reach out for it in surprise. “How’d you get the power to charge this?”

            “We have electricity here. Limited, but the HQ gets away with a lot of things they shouldn’t,” Kaleb hands it to you with a grin. “I thought you could use some cheering up since you just woke up in a really weird place.”

            You smile and nod. “Thanks, Kaleb.”

            He watches over your shoulder as you play it. “A little rusty, huh?”

            “Don’t have to wonder why,” you laugh slightly, the game distracting your mind from any previous emotions and thoughts.

            “So my dad explained all the trials with you?”

            “Yeah. I don’t remember any of them though.”

            “Well, you were kind of crazy when he was experimenting with you. In transition, you know?”

            You frown. “Transition?”

            “Yeah. The infection was slowly eating away at your sanity. That’s when he discovered the cure.”

            The thought of it eating away at that makes you sick to your stomach. Once again distracted, Mario falls off of a cloud and drops to his death. You fall silent for a moment.

            “Am I okay?” the words come out as a whisper and Kaleb looks at you worriedly.

            His eyes scan your face for a moment before he nods and replies, “You’re okay.”

 

            Weeks go by and the doctor runs several experiments and tests on you daily. It is a rather stressful period, for you haven’t been out of the HQ since you woke up and you are growing homesick which you find quite sad since you don’t really have a home. You and Kaleb have grown closer as friends and he comes with you to see your dog. Dogs aren’t allowed in the living portion of the HQ, but you visit every day. Everyone in HQ treats you as their own and kindly, but you still feel like something is missing.

            “Hope?” Kaleb draws your attention back to the colorful board game that rests on the grass in front of you. The two of you are in the courtyard of the HQ to try to get some fresh air playing Life. You’ve never been a fan of Life, but you still remember how to play it.

            “Yes?”

            “It’s your turn,” Kaleb taps the spinning wheel. With a twist of your wrist, you let the wheel spin to determine your fate. It lands on 6. Your tiny plastic car is filled with two females and two males and you find it being a nice, even number for a family. You move it up six spaces.

            “Oh!!” Kaleb exclaims. “Not fair—you can take $200 _and_ move across the bridge.”

            “I told you I am boss at board games,” you respond casually.

            “Whatever. My turn,” he spins, crossing his fingers. “Ugh. Car accident, lose a family member. God, that is actually horrible to put in a board game.”

            “Well, it’s Life. What do you expect—”

            You are cut off by the eardrum-bursting roar of an explosion, the sky turning smoky and gray. The ground trembles with more explosions and you glance at Kaleb, fear building up in your stomach. Kaleb looks terrified, but grabs your arm and abandons the board game, pulling you inside of HQ. People and soldiers are rushing around frantically. No one was prepared for being attacked.

            “Kaleb! Hope!” a man’s voice calls. It’s Doctor Nate. You follow Kaleb over to him. “You need to _get out of here_. They’re going to be heading towards HQ any moment now and—”

            He is interrupted by the sound of gunfire outside.

            “Where do we go?!” Kaleb asks.

            “Hide.” His dad swallows. He’s not even sure himself. “The living portion. They will be after the labs and the food supply. Hide in your room.”

            Kaleb nods and steps away. His fingers intertwine through yours and he begins to pull you towards the stairwell, pushing through people. Someone bursts through the door into the room, a semi-automatic clutched in their hands. The masked man fires and your scream is caught in your throat before you can actually let it out. Kaleb’s face turns pale and he yells. “ _No!”_

            You look back towards the man and find that Doctor Nate is sprawled on the floor, blood pooling around his body. Your heart stops and in a second’s decision you push Nate towards the stairs, tears beginning to fall down your own cheeks. “Kaleb, go. _Go_!”

            He chokes back a sob as you drag him up the stairs to your room and let him sink down against the wall of the closet. Your chest swells up in anger and confusion and hurt and you are scared. You push your desk in front of your door and grab your knife from one of the drawers. Kaleb doesn’t help, shocked and crying and curling up.

            You pull him into your arms and tell him to shush—his crying will draw attention—and cover his mouth with your hand to muffle the sound. You whisper, “Kaleb, it’s going to be okay. We are getting through this.”

            Moments later, the sound of doors being opened and then slammed is heard throughout the hallway. Your chest clenches up with fear and you let go of Kaleb, grasping your knife instead. You haven’t used it in a long time.

            There’s a rattling as one of the intruders attempts to open the door. He throws his body against it and you make a face of distress. The desk was starting to slide away from the door. It was a lightweight IKEA desk. You always knew that IKEA is unreliable. A man pushes his way into the room and Kaleb is trembling beside you. He is only thirteen and he probably has never seen someone shoot another person before.

            The man is wearing a mask like the other guy was and carrying a full-auto. He heads towards the bed.

            You touch Kaleb’s shoulder and point at the door. He nods fearfully.  Slowly, he begins to make his way towards the door. Meanwhile, you stealth your way up behind him, jumping up and wrapping your legs around his waist. He yells and thrashes his fists against your legs, dropping his gun.

            “Kaleb,” you shout, “run away and _don’t you turn back_!”

            Kaleb stares at you for one last time and then bolts out the door. You squeeze your thighs tighter around the guy’s waist and then, without a thought, you strike his throat horizontally with the blade of your knife. With a sickening gurgle, he loses his balance and topples to the floor, bringing you with him.

            On the way down, your head meets the bedpost and then the tile and the corners of your vision grow dim. Your hands are wet and slimy with blood and you pant, out of breath and horrified, yet relieved at the same time. You are unable to move far, but you pull your body underneath your bed with excruciating effort.

            Before you lose consciousness a sentence echoes throughout your mind, a contorted version of your voice: _It’s life._

           

           

John

            There’s emerald grass that pokes up through the dirt and brushes the skin of your ankles and the sky above you is vivid. No clouds are hanging around and only a soft breeze makes the leaves on the nearby trees sway. It’s beautiful.

            You begin to walk forward because you see someone on the top of one of the hills that roll across this land. It’s the silhouette of a girl and you call out, “Hello?”

            She doesn’t hear. You run up the hill getting closer. “Hello?!”

            The girl shifts, turning her face to look at you. She has golden hair and you realize that it’s Rose and her face twists up in pain when she sees you. “John?”

            “Oh, god, Rose,” you reach out for her. She slowly pulls away from your grasp.

            “John, what were you thinking?” she inquires softly.

            “What?”

            “Why did you come up here? You know it’s not safe up here,” her eyes look sad.

            “Rose, what are you talking about?”

            “You were right to leave me, John,” Rose sighs and shakes her head. “Leave me again. Go back down there before something happens.”

            “I didn’t leave you,” your blue eyes widen in confusion. “Why are you saying that? What’s going to happen?”

            “John, you have to _go_ ,” she pushes you slightly. You stand your ground.

            “No! Tell me what’s going on—”

            A loud rumbling fills your ears and it’s coming from behind Rose. She shakes her head at you, but her head seems to get stuck like a glitch in a computer program—shaking and shaking—and then she disappears and reappears further down the hill. The sky has turned a dark gray and clouds are beginning to roll in.

            Fear begins to churn in your stomach as a crazed man with ripped clothing runs towards Rose. “No!”

            You run down the hill towards her, tripping and tumbling head over heels down through the grass, feeling the ground quaking beneath you. There’s an agonizing pain that shoots through your ankle.

            The man knocks Rose over, taking a huge bite out of her side and she yells loudly. Her cries pierce the air along with the thunder.

            “Rose!” you exclaim, crawling towards her. The man is gone—vanished into thin air—and now it’s just the two of you and even though she has part of her side missing, she is sprinting towards you, angry and bleeding.

            “I told you—I _told_ you to stay on the other side!” she screams at you and it scares you. Her eyes are red and crimson drips down her face in rivulets.

            “R-rose, stay away,” you crawl backwards only to bump into a tree. A cold, harsh wind whips her hair around. “I’m sorry!”

            “You’re not safe anymore,” she hisses.

            Rain falls from the clouds and it hits your skin with a burning pain, like boiling water. It takes a moment for you to notice that it’s raining blood and it makes you writhe in pain whenever it touches your bare skin. You scream.

            “Get up, John,” she is getting closer, her voice taunting. You squeeze your eyes shut. “ _Get up_.”

            “Get up, John!” her voice changes and you can recognize it as Dave’s. You open your eyes, still screaming, and jerk upright.

            Dave has your wrists in his grasp, eyes wide and worried. “John, breathe.”

            “W-what’s happening, Dave?” your breath is shaky and uneven and your body is trembling.

            “It was a bad dream, John,” Dave sighs. He has a scratch across his cheek. “You’re fine.”

            He lets go of your wrists and you press them to your forehead, wiping sweat off your skin. You swear you can still feel the ground shuddering. _It was a dream_. _A dream_.

            “Dave, what happened to your face?”

            “You got me when you were flailing around,” his eyebrows furrow. “Do you want to talk about it?”

            “No.” you respond quietly. The dream did spur some feelings of worry. You miss Rose. “I’m sorry.”

            “It’s cool,” he shrugs.

            “When did you get here?” you question him, finally getting your breathing under control.

            “Not too long ago,” Dave answers.

            “What took you so long? It’s late and past curfew.”

            “I was with someone.”

            You narrow your eyes. “ _With_ someone or just with someone?”

            “Just with someone I met,” he says a little defensively. “I got lost walking here.”

            “Dave.”

            “What?”

            “I want to go home.” It came out sounding slightly childish.

            He inhales deeply, rubbing his forehead. “John, I know, so do I, but we haven’t had any opportunities.”

            “How do you know that we will ever get one, then?” you retort. “I don’t trust this place. It’s too normal.”

            A mix of expressions pass over Dave’s face. A hush fills the room while he thinks.

            “I told you I would get us out, didn’t I?” Dave says quietly. “Just be patient.”

            “We don’t belong here,” you pressure.

            “John, we don’t belong anywhere—not anymore,” he clenches his jaw and stands up. “Are you going to be okay if I go back to bed?”

            You pause, a feeling of sadness coming over you. “Yes.”

            “Okay,” Dave heads out of the room. “Good night.”

            “Good night,” you reply.

           

 

Dave

            On Sunday, there is a community dinner in the HQ and the whole zone eats there while having a meeting. John and you go. It’s a bit awkward finding somewhere to sit since you don’t know anyone, so John just leads you over to a partially empty table. There is a lovely ambience of live music and talking throughout the hall and food is set down in front of you by a server. It is very normal.

            The others at the table instantly begin speaking to you and you get to know them quickly. It is nice to talk to others. Awhile into the meal, you ask one of them about Hope.

            “The outer-wall soldiers found her while doing routine walks around the town. She was infected and brought her to the labs. She was on the brink of Corruption, but they were able to clear the infection from her body. Most of the zone believes that her stumbling into the town was the key to a more successful future. A few people say she’s crazy, though, and that they shouldn’t let her work around kids. She teaches science in the library during the afternoon.”

            “Why is she crazy?” you interrogate. They are just telling you stuff that you already know.

            “There are a bunch of rumors of her walking through the streets and then just dropping to the ground. Asleep. The first time it happened, the one who went over to her first thought she was dead.”

            “That is sort of weird.” Hope has to be the girl that boy was talking about. You wonder where the boy is now.

            “Her neighbors also complain of her screaming in the middle of the night.”

            “Uh…why’s that?” You bite your lip before stabbing a piece of meat with your fork.

            “She sees things.” The guy shrugs. “I’m not sure if that second part is true. I’ve just heard the rumors. I don’t know, man.”

            “Let me guess. She doesn’t remember how she got infected.”

            “Not a clue, yo.” Another guy chimes in. You nod thoughtfully.

            Just then, Hope walks into the large gathering hall with her dog.

            “Is she allowed to have that with her in here?” John asks.

            “Hope does whatever she wants.” The second guy responds and then falls quiet as the girl walks over to your table and sits down next to you. Reb curls up under her folding chair.

            “Hello,” she says.

            “Hey, Hope.” You answer.  

            John’s face grows deathly pale when he looks at her. You shoot him a glance. “John. This is Hope, Hope this is John.”

            Hope nods and smiles, not really glancing up. She’s too busy feeding her dog some of the food on her plate.

            “I _hope_ you don’t mind me sitting here.” She winks at you. “Get it?”

            “Yeah, that was almost funny.” The guys give you a confused look and you shrug.

            John starts shoving food into his mouth while staring Hope down with a perturbed expression. You’re starting to wonder if _he’s_ the crazy one at this table.

            “Hope?”

            “Hmm?”

            “Is that really your name?” John inquires.

            “Nope.”

            “What is it then?”

            “Why don’t you ask those guys since they seem to know everything about me,” she gives them a fake smile and starts eating her dinner.

            John looks towards the guys.

            “We actually don’t know.”

            “How surprising,” she sighs and shakes her head. “I don’t usually tell people that I’ve just met my private information.”

            “I don’t think you’ve just met me.”

            “John, eat your food.” You narrow your eyes at him.

            A puzzled look crosses Hope’s face.

            “He’s tired, just ignore him.”

            “Alright.”

            John stands up and walks out of the HQ doors, abandoning his food.

            “Is he coming back?” she watches after him.

            “I don’t know…he doesn’t usually act like that.” You answer her while finishing up your plate.

            “Well, I’m going to eat the rest of his dinner if he’s not back in five minutes.” She laughs softly and takes a drink.

            You find it easy to smile at her. She looks up at you. “What?”

            “Nothing.” You answer.

           

            After the meal, you head out into the dark night and it is a little chilly. Hope pauses before splitting to head somewhere else, looking over you briefly.

            “Hey, wanna stop by the library tomorrow to help me set up for class?” she inquires.

            “Yeah, sure,” you nod. “I’ll be there before my shift starts.”

            “Sweet!” Hope smiles and starts to walk away. “Night, Dave.”

            “Good night.”

             You look around the area. A figure sits at the base of a large tree, slumped forward. It’s John.

            “John,” you head over to him and hold out your hand to help him up, “what’s going on with you tonight?”

            He glances up, his pale cheeks damp, and ignores your hand. “You can’t do this to yourself, Dave. I know what you’re doing!”

            “Wait, what?” You respond, surprised. Kneeling down, you look him in the eyes. “What are you talking about?”

            “You know what I am talking about,” John shakes his head, his overgrown hair brushing across his cheekbones. “That girl is going to get you hurt.”

            “Hope?” You are taken aback by this. “Why would you—”

            “Because she is _exactly like her_!” John exclaims. A few of the people flowing out of the hall glance over. “She is exactly like Jade and you are just using her to fill in that gap— _that void_ —that Jade left behind! Dave, she is _not Jade_! You’re fooling yourself into this mindset that she could replace her, but then you’re going to find that _one thing—_ a phrase Jade would never say—and then you’re going to be at rock-bottom again the same way you were when you lost her to begin with!”

            Your face is turning a bit heated at this and you will yourself to stay calm. John has been getting easily worked up lately.

            “And,” John has a rather scary look in his eyes, one that you haven’t seen before in them, “when we get out of here…she is _not_ coming with us. So don’t be getting attached.”

            “Who are you to make that call?” you blurt, instantly regretting it. It is unlike you, but just him saying Jade’s name gets you ticked off. “I am friends with her because when I got here she was the first person to _actually_ interact with me and I just so happen to like talking to her. So don’t you _dare_ bring Jade into this!”

            He laughs quietly, almost to himself. “Stop lying to yourself, Dave.”

            “John, are you acting this way just because we are still here?”

            John shakes his head once more, rubbing his hand over his forehead. “I’m gonna get out of here without you or not, Dave. I don’t know if you remember this, but we have a _real_ family waiting and worrying about us.”

            You realize that he is right, finally, that you don’t belong here and it almost sickens you to think how you have hardly worried about Rose and the others still at the mansion. Or at least you hope they are still at the mansion. You’re still unsure with what he said about Hope, but John warned you too late. It seems although leaving her here alone would haunt you forever.

            Straightening back up, you hold out your hand again. “We leave on Wednesday. But Hope is coming with us.”

            John hesitantly takes your hand.

 

 

Monday

            Hope unlocks a door inside of the dark library and pushes open the door. She hits the lights and the room brightens with the white glow of fluorescent bulbs in the ceiling. Electricity is a luxury you have missed for a long time now.

            Leaning against a desk, you watch as Hope opens a cabinet beneath a sink that doesn’t work anymore and starts pulling things out. “What do you need me to do?”

            “Start filling the plastic cups with the materials in these bags.”

            You start doing so. “What are these for anyways?”

            “I am teaching the kids about the composition of plant and animal cells.”

            “Aren’t you a teenager yourself? Why would they let you be in charge of teaching kids science?”

            “I’m 18 and I’m good at science. That’s why. Plus, like those guys said, I do whatever I want.” She jumps up and opens a cabinet above the sink, reaching for a bag of pipe-cleaners. The girl is too short to reach so you turn to help her, but you pause. Your attention is caught by the fact that as she stretches her arms up, her shirt lifts up as well, exposing the skin of her stomach. A large scar that has only slightly healed over, a bit pink at the edges, crosses her side. You mentally and physically freeze, something agitating your thoughts as you stare at the girl.

            You slowly grab the pipe-cleaners from her hands. “If you don’t mind me asking…like I don’t want to be rude, but where did you get the infection?”

            Hope pauses and blinks at you a minute, as though debating whether or not she was willing to disclose that information. She sighs. “A really bad scratch. On my side. It looks really creepy.”

            You both fall silent for a long moment, watching each other.

            “Do you want to leave this place?” You ask softly.

            She looks thoughtful as she responds, “I am scared to leave, but I feel confined here.”

            Your jaw sets as you cast your glance towards the floor. “My friend wants to leave and…”

            “And you’re leaving really soon,” Hope finishes, her lips pressing together and her head nodding slightly. “I get it.”

            “I know we just met, but it feels wrong leaving you. Something feels off.”

            She nods and leans back against the counter. “I’ll miss you.”

            A sudden forlorn feeling swells in your chest. “So you’re not going to come?”

            “I…I don’t know if I can. What happened out there…,” Hope closes her eyes a moment. “…it’s not something I want to experience again.”

            “I understand.”

            She stares at you sadly, her eyes round and like emerald gems and you hate yourself so much as John’s words replay in your mind: _She’s not Jade._

            You catch yourself leaning forward in the slightest and she does the same. Her lips are soft when they brush against your own and for a few seconds, you remain that way—barely touching, her breath warm against your cheeks. Then, she kisses you deeply, once, and pulls away. It was over quickly.  She’s blushing.

            “Are you blushing?”

            “Maybe.”

            “Why, you’ve never kissed someone before?”

            “Once. A long time ago.” She frowns.

            “He’s gone, huh?”

            “Yeah, long gone.” Hope digs through a cabinet, distracting herself. “You’re leaving Friday?”

            “Wednesday.” You correct.

            “Oh…two days…” she murmurs. When she turns back around, glue bottles in her hands, she sets them on the front table. “Before you leave, I want to tell you about how I got infected.”

 

Hope

            You continue to set up for the classroom lab, setting two pairs of rainbow pipe-cleaners and one glue bottle on each table. Dave helps you. He’s so nice. You really don’t want him to leave.

            “I used to be in a different quarantine zone. Few months before I was infected. It sucked there, kinda. Well, compared to here anyway. I was a guard and I became reckless. I would just stroll up to the Corrupted and bash their heads in like it’s no big deal. Like they never once were people and like they couldn’t hurt me.”

            Dave listens.

            You pause, everything becoming really fuzzy. Your mind flickers, sorta like back when a television would lose cable and the image turned distorted. “Sorry, it’s hard to recall everything. We got attacked one night by Corrupted and one got me real good. I kept it secret. I was really scared and my friends didn’t notice until I got sick. It was so horrible…how grief-stricken they were. It reminded me of when I lost my grandfather years ago.”

            “I was dying. Or at least it felt that way. It felt like something was ripping the insides of my head apart and I kept seeing these weird things and then I just woke up one day alone and I felt so sick and weak. I could barely walk and I kept running into things—the room kept moving. I got downstairs and when I stepped outside, the sky was orange and the grass was red and on the ground were the bodies of my friends dead. I think Corrupted got to them.”

            “I’m sorry.” Dave grimaces. He looks anxious.

            “I began walking and I don’t know why or where I was walking and there were Corrupted—I just walked right by them and they just smiled at me, offered me food. I was so hungry, so I took it and I ate it—I ate so, so much of it and I knew I was starting to lose my sanity because I wanted to throw myself back and laugh at how the sun was grinning at me. And then one of them said ‘we hunt now’ and all of them cheered and took off running and chanting. It sounded beautiful to me then, but now it just sounds horrifying.”

            “Anyway, when we were ‘hunting’, Reb was there. And the others wanted to take him to eat him and I was really angered about that. I wouldn’t let them touch the dog—I…” you trail off, not wanting to go into detail. “Reb, started walking away and barking at me, so I followed him and he led me here. That’s what happened.”

            You take a deep breath and sit down on one of the tables. It takes a moment before you realize that Dave is crying. It’s quiet and hardly noticeable, but you can tell by the way he sniffs and pretends to be itching his cheek when he is actually wiping tears from under the shades of his glasses. You pretend not to notice so you don’t embarrass him.

            “Did you say your grandfather died?” he questions, his voice surprising solid, but with an edge to it. You glance down, wrapping a pipe-cleaner around your fingers.

            “In a car accident. I was with my friend on the night everything went down and we wanted to—”

            You’re interrupted by the sound of the classroom door creaking shut and when you look back up, Dave is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOA I finally updated after a month, I'm sorry guys. I am picking up the speed here, because I was hoping to have under 12-13 chapters because fics with a lot of chapters get to be too crazy for people to read. 10 chapters is already a lot in my opinion, but since this got quite positive feedback, I will finish it to the end.  
> Did you know this was originally supposed to just be a demo for a story idea I wanted to test out? Yeah, I am actually hoping to take this apocalypse idea and turn it into a novel, and then try to get it published.  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter even though the end is rather distastefully fast-paced to be honest. Please leave feedback! Thank you and Happy Halloween!


	11. Reflexionem

Dave

            It is funny how, when you were younger, your face was a stranger to you. You seldom looked in the mirror and when you did it was not long enough to memorize the features of your face. Your appearance was hardly known to yourself. Overtime, it was something you grew used to seeing—the soft splash of freckles across the bridge of your nose and cheekbones, the blonde tips of your eyelashes, the corners of your lips that were usually turned downwards.

            Today, you are once again a stranger to yourself. More freckles and a slightly darker complexion from extended hours in the Texan sun, longer hair that’s in dire need to be cut. Skinnier. Taller. Shadows under your eyes. Your voice is even deeper than it once was.

            You have been crying. The whites of your eyes are tinted red and your nose hasn’t stopped running since you got home last night. You cry because John was right and because this cannot be a coincidence. If it is just that, you don’t understand why you deserved to be tormented in this way. Was an apocalypse not enough?

            In your hands are a pair of scissors, snatched from the classroom a day before. You can’t be a stranger to yourself anymore. The mirror in front of you has specks of rust on it, but you don’t find them bothersome as you begin to cut your hair. It probably would seem silly to other guys. Who cares about hair anymore, right? But it is not about the hair. It’s just in case. You want her to recognize you. You want to recognize yourself.

            It is rather hard to cut, but your brother’s last girlfriend was a hairstylist and you used to watch her when she would cut your hair. She made it look so easy. You push the memory of the two away. They are only ghosts of the past now. Soft whispers carried away by the wind.

            When you are finished, the outcome is not displeasing, though it is not entirely the same as it once was either. You push the strands of hair off of the sink into the trashcan and then shake your head at yourself in the mirror. Finally, you look a little more recognizable.

            You wipe your nose on a tissue and try to swallow the feelings of illness down, calming down your shaking. _God. Please._ You are desperate. _Please, be her._

            A ten minute walk away is the library and within the library is a classroom door. With a gentle push, the classroom door swings open slowly. Hope’s back is to you, bent over a desk and scribbling aggressively with a pen. You tug your stupid sunglasses off your face and grip them tightly—surprised that the pressure doesn’t crush them. You wish there was something supporting you because you feel so scared like you will crumble into a pile of dust and ash and blow away.

            “Jade?” you weakly whisper. It was meant to be spoken louder, but a murmur was all you could muster.

            You watch as her back stiffens for moment before she turns. She meets your eyes from across the room. They are clear emeralds.

            Her teeth clench and tears begin to spring from her eyes as she stares you down. Then she blinks and sinks to the floor, pressing the heels of her hands into closed eyes.

            “Not again, not again,” she cries. “He said the medication would work.”

            What the fuck.

            “What?” you make your way over to her.

            “Leave me alone.”

            “No, look, I…” you pause and brush your fingertips over her knuckles. “I am _real_.”

            You’re biting back tears yourself. Swallowing hard, head aching with disbelief and shock. She shudders and pushes back against the desk.

            “We are supposed to learn about the _golgi apparatus_ today,” Jade mutters. “You need to leave me alone.”

            “I-I know, you told me already…” She thinks she is having hallucinations and is actually starting to lose it. This is the first that you have seen her behave in this fashion. Just because you chopped off your hair and took off your glasses. Your hair wasn’t _that_ long before, was it? She is the one who looks more different than you did. With her hair chopped into a near-pixie cut and her once filled-out hips now nothing more than bone. The absence of her over-sized circular glasses that rested on the tip of a once-ivory nose.

            You are unsure how to help. “Jade, I am _real_.”

            Your fingers are quivering again and you reach out once more and go to grab her hands from her eyes, but she thrashes out at you, yelling nonsense. For a moment, you ponder the thought that this is hopeless, yet you come to the conclusion that it _cannot_ be hopeless. This shit you’ve gone through—it won’t be for nothing. You will take back what is yours and what you love and care about. This world does not have the right to keep things that it does not have the right to keep.

            You scoot back and let her be in her own personal bubble.

            “I didn’t die.” Your voice becomes surprisingly steady. “That blood in the parking lot—it wasn’t ours. It was someone else’s. We made it out. All of us.”

            “It was so hard...you not being with us. We found this manor all secluded at the end of a dirt road with this tall iron wrought fence. It has so much land—and a greenhouse. God, you would _love_ it there. You know, be totally in that nature zone you get in when you are gardening. The old owners really liked baking, right, and we found all these boxes of cake mix. So Jane got all excited—and I seriously mean it when I say excited. She was like jumping around the kitchen and started baking it with this old-fashion oven-fireplace-thing. These old people were antique freaks. It’s actually really sweet. Anyway, we baked the cake for you.”

            You glance up at her. The girl’s face is still covered, but you can tell she is listening.

            “I swore my life was over. It felt like it. It was like I couldn’t tolerate anything anymore and I kept reminding myself _there are still people you need to protect_. I can’t believe you are alive. Hell. I can’t believe you are right here in front of me. I’m scared that in a moment, I will open my eyes and be back with the others and all this will just be some stupid thing that my brain created to torture me.”

            She looks up at you, tears streaking her cheeks. “Dave?”

            “Yes?”

            “I am so stupid,” she is shivering. “So _stupid_.”

            “We are all pretty stupid,” you respond softly.

            “You’re real?”

            “Yes.”

            “The only reason I believe you this time...is because you normally talk about the past-past. Now you are talking about the present.” She inhales deeply. “How could I not tell...?”

            “We are changed.” You sigh. “Time leaves its marks on us. Sometimes it leaves deeper signatures than we can expect.”

            Jade hesitates before crawling over next to you. Her hand reaches up and touches your cheek. You almost find it hard to meet her gaze. It doesn’t feel real.

            “Is this even real?” she murmurs, her words echoing your thoughts.

            “I don’t know,” you answer.

            She burrows into you and you wrap your arms around her thin frame. It’s surprisingly painful—holding her again. It doesn’t feel real at all and you want to bang your elbow into the wall until you wake up and realize that you’re still at the mansion.

            Yet, your fingers curl into the very-real fabric of Jade’s shirt, pulling her closer and she only pauses for a slight second before pressing her lips against your own. Jade pushes your shoulders back, deepening the kiss, before breaking it almost too-quickly. Her breathing is heavy, as is yours, and she stares at you, her face now an unreadable mask of expressions.

            For the next couple of moments, you stay there silently, touching. Close, though not too close.

            Jade breaks the silence. “This is real.”

            “Should I bang my head against this wall a few times just to be sure?”

            “No, because if this really isn’t real, then I don’t want you leaving me.”

            “I won’t leave you.”

            Jade’s face presses into your neck, her breath warm. “Dave.”

            “Yes?”

            “I never said it before-before but,” her voice is clear, “I love you a lot.”

            You close your eyes, feeling the tears stinging violently again. “I love you, too.”

            She smiles, or at least you think. You can’t see very well through the tears and you don’t even care that you are crying in front of her.

            “I am coming with you.”

            “You better,” you grin and kiss the top of her head.

 

John

            It makes you mad that Dave isn’t here to help you plan. Sure, you’re pretty smart and all, but Dave is more strategic than you will ever be. Even though his plans have gotten you into a lot of messes before, you trust him more than you trust yourself.

            You feel bad for yelling at him the other night and you can’t help but feel that you were in the wrong. He is probably angry with you. He came home last night and went to his room without even muttering a word to you. You sat at the table in the living room and listened to him screaming profanities into his pillow, but you stayed where you were. Dave was off again, lost in the tormenting landscape of his thoughts, and you know that he had probably tumbled back down to the bottom of the mountain only to find that there were no handholds to climb back up. It was a period of time when he was inconsolable and words were meaningless, so you kept to yourself.

            The next dawn, he took extra-long in the bathroom and you were curious as to why until he stepped out. He looked almost as he once did before everything happened, younger and more Dave-like. Though he looked disturbed and didn’t cast a glance in your direction before walking out the door. It hurt you, in a way, when he said nothing to you, but you understand why. Either he was pissed at you or he was just too messed up to formulate anything to say.

            So seeing Dave now, stumbling up the front path, panting and out of breath, you open the door. The feeling of concern spreads over your chest like a thick fog as you grip his arm and pull him inside the house.

            “What did you do?” you ask. It sounded more like you were chastising him.

            “Nothing bad.”

            “Why are you out of breath then?”

            Dave sits down, running his fingers through his freshly-cut hair. “We need to get out of here.”

            The concern fades and a grin crosses over your face. “I see you have come to the correct solution, Dave.”

            “I say we just steal a car like last time and speed outta here.” His breath is slowly calming down. “Our uniforms are the same as the ones who go out and guard the town. We could do it and they would never know.”

            “That sounds too easy.” You bite your lip. Maybe it would be better if you came up with the plan.

            “The best plans are easy,” Dave answers.

            “No, usually the easy plans end up with everyone getting in trouble.”

            “Well, do you have a better idea?”

            “No, but I might know someone who will.”

            “Who?”

            You smirk. “Come on, you’ll see.”

           

Dave

            John leads you up the crumbling staircase of an old store and once inside you are suffocated by smoke and the horrible skunkiness of what you believe is weed. You feel suspicious about John knowing the whereabouts of this place, but you don’t say anything.

            He guides you to the back, waving to a very-stoned girl who called his name when he walked in, and up a staircase. At the top, John knocks on a door and it is opened by a large man with a greying beard and crinkles in the corners of his eyes. He looks nothing like a man who would have anything to do with drugs.

            A voice comes from inside the room. “Hey, Egbert, you finally come here to get high off your—”

            “Shut up,” the beard-man cuts the voice off. “Hello, John.”

            “It is time for you to keep your end of the deal.” John replies.

            “Is it now?” his forehead wrinkles up and he opens the door wider, welcoming you inside.

            John steps in and you follow. Beard-man ushers the girl who yelled moments earlier out of the room. He then sits down at his desk and gestures towards the seats in front of it.

            You stare at the man, not trusting him.

            “We need a way to get out of the zone.” John speaks in a more confident tone than he ever has before.

            The man strokes his beard thoughtfully, staring you down right back. “I may have an idea.”

            “Don’t be thinking that you’re gonna make me pay for it because you owe me.” John’s eyebrows furrow. “It’s either you do have an idea or you don’t.”

            “Well I do, but it just depends on how far you’re willing to go to get out of here,” he retorts.

            “I will go as far as I need to go.”

            “Alright,” the man nods. “I need some packages smuggled out of here. You guys are guards. You have guns, correct?”

            “Yes,” John answers.                                                                               

            “Whoa, wait, you are _joking_ right?” You interrupt.

            John glares at you. “It’s the only way.”

            “No, it’s not—there is still my plan!”

            “Your plan sucks, Dave,” John shakes his head and repeats, “This is the only way.”

            You fall silent, pushing your thumb into your temple. This is crazy.

            “He will get you out of here, but you have to back him up—protect him. There are other dealers in this zone and they’re always trying to steal from me. I need this shipment to arrive safely and securely. Deal?”

            Did he seriously just agree to smuggle _drugs_? His plan is more risky than yours, you think. Drugs are illegal in the zone. It causes chaos, in their opinions, and the zone is willing to simply put a bullet through your chest for not following directions. Either you make it out, get shot by a rival drug lord’s pets, or get arrested and maybe killed by the zone guards. Great.

            “ _John_ ,” you hiss. “Think this through. This isn’t a good idea—it’s not right.”

            “There’s no such thing as right and wrong anymore,” the man responds to you in a gruff voice. He looks at John once more. “Do we have a deal or not?”

            “Yeah, deal,” John shakes the man’s hairy hand, rising to his feet. You hope you will be granted some luck.

            “Meet here at ten tonight.” He says.

            “I don’t like this,” you mutter.

            John nods and leaves the room. You begin to walk after him and the man moves to close the door behind you. Before doing so, his fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you back. His beard and hot breath tickle your ear as he speaks. “Suck it up, Buttercup.”

            You feel his fingers slide into your back pocket and he shuts the door. You make your way outside the building _very_ quickly, feeling creeped-out.

            “John—”

            “Get your stuff together. We only have a few hours left.” John interrupts.

           

           

            As the time to leave grows closer, you grow more worried. Especially for Jade. John doesn’t even know. You haven’t told him about her yet. But she has to come with you and you have to make it out of here.

            Jade runs to you and throws her arms around your neck when you get to her room. “You smell gross.”

            “Hello to you too,” you smile only slightly. “It is a weird story, but we need to go. We are leaving soon.”

            “I thought you were leaving tomorrow,” she frowns.

            “Plans have...changed,” you sigh. “I apparently had no say in it.”

            She nods slowly. “Alright.”

            “Are you going to pack?” you inquire.

            “I have nothing to pack,” she answers. “But I need to get Reb.”

            “Let’s go get him, then.”

            “Okay.” She leads you down a few floors and outside to a barn.

            “They keep the dogs in here?”

            “No, but I keep Reb in here.”

            “Why?”

            “Because I don’t want him in a cage,” she shrugs. “He isn’t a troublemaker.”

            You don’t argue with her as she pets Reb and shoos him out of the barn. Taking her hand, you then walk through the streets of the zone as the sun begins to dip below the buildings. John is already waiting there for you, a backpack slung over his shoulders, looking irritated. Jade’s fingers drop from yours as she runs full-speed at John and knocks him to the ground. John yells.

            Damn. You’re kind of jealous. She didn’t knock you to the ground when she hugged you.

            “John, John, I _am_ Jade!” she exclaims. It sounds kind of silly as though she is speaking to a child. You can’t see his face, but you can feel the surprise radiating from him because the one thing Jade had brought with her were her glasses. When she slid them on and looked up at you, you could see her once more and you had smiled. John is probably seeing the same thing.

            Walking closer, you see that John is only smiling stupidly, but you also catch a hint of guilt in his eyes when he glances over to you. Jade stands up and brushes herself off, grinning. Her eyes are a little watery. John pushes himself off the ground and readjusts the straps of his backpack.

            “Did you already tell her what’s going down?” he bites his lip.

            “She knows that we are leaving,” you answer quietly. Jade’s eyes meet yours questioningly.

            “Hm?”

            “We are basically smuggling drugs,” you lower your voice even though no one is around. “Then we get out after they get delivered safely.”

            Her eyes widen. “What?!”

            “I _know_ , it’s crazy right?” your words are shadowed with sarcasm and you stare at John. “It’s John’s plan.”

            “If we get caught—”

            “If we get caught, you are going to make a run for it and you are going to keep running until you are safe.”

            “What if you get caught, then?”

            “Then we are dead,” John sets his jaw.

            “I don’t feel right about this,” she retorts, mimicking your opinion.

            “Whatever, give me some faith for once,” John turns his attention to a man stepping out of the building. He is clad in dark clothing, face covered, and a large messenger bag is secured across his chest.

            “Are you ready?” he asks.

            “Yeah,” John’s fingers brush against the outline of a revolver tucked into his waistband. “Let’s get this over with.”

           

            It’s dark. The street corners are lit by fire barrels, but no one is around them because it is past curfew. The after-dark guards are on duty, scanning the alleys with flashlights and murmuring softly to each other. You follow the man in black with caution. He seems to know what he is doing. When the beam of a flashlight shines across your path, he is the first to duck behind an overflowing dumpster.

            Jade has her fingers wrapped tightly around Reb’s collar despite the dog’s protesting. John appears to not be worried. He is very determined to get out of here. You are about twenty minutes on foot to the edge of the zone, but a lot can go wrong in twent—

            There is a gasp behind you. Spinning around, it belongs to Jade, the barrel of a shotgun pushing against her neck. A gloved hand is covering the girl’s mouth and her eyebrows are furrowed. Reb growls.

            “John.”

            “What?” John whispers, crouched in a doorway.

            “Get Druggie over here,” you mutter before turning back towards the man who is smirking at you.

            “So you know how this goes.” He says in a gruff voice.

            “Yeah, I do.” Your eyes narrow. “You’re gonna drop your shit and let her go or else I am going to fucking kill you.”

            “That’s kind of bold considering you are outnumbered and if there is one move that I find distasteful, I won’t hesitate to shoot this lady,” he responds as five other men step out. It was like the most cliché lines that are used in every action movie. So you know that taking these guys out shouldn’t be a problem.

            Druggie stands behind John. “You’ve got the wrong people. We’ve got nothing. Just trying to steal food from the HQ.”

            “That’s really funny, dumbass, since the HQ is the opposite direction.”

            You eye the man holding Jade and the very slow movement of her hand catches your eye. Pretending not to notice, you try to cover up John’s mistake. “God dammit, I thought you said the HQ was this way.”

            “I told you! I am directionally challenged!” John hisses at you, thankfully playing along. “I failed geography!”

            “What the fuck does geography have to do with knowing where the HQ is?” a man pipes up.

            “Directions...” John trails off. “It’s dark. Thanks for correcting us, but we are just trying to get some extra food. My cousin is sick, you feel me?”

            “Yeah, man, I do feel you,” a tall guy with a pistol nods. “You wanna know what I would love more? Your blood running through my fingers.”

            There’s a cry as in the corner of your eye, you see Jade plunge a knife into the shotgun man’s stomach and twisting hard. You pull out the gun tucked into your belt and shoot the full-auto man in the shoulder. Jade grabs the shotgun from the ground and shoots someone in the chest, the kick of the gun nearly knocking her off her feet. You catch her by the elbow and push her behind you.

            “Now is your turn to get out of here,” you grimace. She looks frustrated and then she grabs a barking Reb and takes off. Ducking into a doorway, you don’t see what direction she goes. Since shit went down, you hope you will be able to track her down before the guards get to you.

            Bullets fly past your head, nearly grazing the soft skin of your ear. They embed into the wall behind with loud thumps. You peek out from behind the door and shoot. You’re not really the best shot, yet you manage to hit a guy in the chest. He falls to the ground. John downs another the same time Druggie kills one. That leaves two.

            The last shots echo throughout the alleyway, ringing in your eyes. John is okay. You are okay. Druggie is okay. Jade is nowhere to be found, but she couldn’t have gone far. You step out of the doorway as soon as a flashlight beam flings around the corner and into your face.

            “Drop your weapons and hold up your hands!” a voice calls. Several more flashlight beams shine upon you, John and Druggie. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

            You are a deer in the headlights and all you can do is let your weapon drop from your fingertips. It clatters on the cement. You hold up your hands and the others do the same.

            “Search them.”

            Firm hands slide over your body, shuffling your clothing.

            A guard grabs Druggie’s bag and unzips it, dumping four large packs of marijuana on the ground. “We got illegal drugs here.”

            “This one is clear, but we still got to take him in.” Metal handcuffs are hooked around John’s wrists. “What about that one.”

            A hand stops over your back pocket and then slides into it. “We got something.”

            What the hell? There wasn’t anything in your pocket this morning.

            The guard holds something up and you gawk at it in horror. He twists it between his fingers, looking down at it. “Looks like we’ve got a joint.”

            “What, no, I didn’t—that isn’t mine!” you exclaim.

            “Shut up. Get cuffs on him.” The one who found you first demands. “We’re taking them to HQ.”

            There is a gurgled cough and everyone spins around to find a guard flat on his back, throat slit. _Jade_. You wish you were telepathic. _Get away from here_.

            She would probably reply, _No way, Dave! We gotta get out of here remember?”_

            Jade answers your thoughts by moving out of her hiding spot and smashing her gun against the side of female guard’s head. The guard stumbles backwards, knocked out cold. The goes to hit another one, but he catches her by the wrist and knocks the shotgun out of her grasp. Reb is barking again, throwing himself at the guard and biting his hip. The guard screams and releases Jade and you swing into action, smashing your head into the head of the guard who patted you down. He yells and punches you in the stomach, but you are unfazed, ducking and jumping, swinging your cuffed arms under you to the front of your body. You kick him in the crotch and finally he gives in, falling to his knees. John plants his toe into the guard’s head and Jade shoots another one. It’s chaotic, but a truck drives around the corner and they have the big-guns. You run. Jade and John and Druggie follow you. Druggie seems to not care much about his bag of drugs, leaving it behind and heading towards the outside of the zone. The dog is right at Jade’s heels, loyal even when bullets are once again flying.

            You run into another alley and the truck is still close. You keep running and running and your chest is burning and your head is throbbing. Until you hit something hard and you don’t feel much of anything at all, your vision going dark.

John

            You were so close. So _fucking_ close. Ten minutes away maybe? Then you hit the dead-end where Dave smashed into the brick wall and Jade tripped over a wooden stake, twisting her ankle. The drug guy you were supposed to be guarding must have split off, running somewhere so you would get caught and he wouldn’t. This is your fault.

            Now you are in a white room with white furniture and cushioned walls and Dave is sleeping across the small chamber on a white bed. Jade isn’t here.

            Approaching Dave, you sit on the edge of his bed and shake his shoulder. There is a large welt on his forehead. He moans when his eyes slowly open and he turns over.

            “My head hurts so badly,” he murmurs.

            “Dave, you need to get up. We are in trouble.”

            His eyes flick around the room. “Where are we?”

            “Waiting for our sentence.”

            “I take it there is no court system here,” Dave groans.

            “Nope. They already know what they’re going to do to us, but they are just waiting.”

            “Waiting for what?”

            “Doctor’s approval. He could use us in the labs or kill us right away.”

            “I prefer option two.” Dave slowly sits up.

            “And option two is what you will be getting,” a voice says from the opposite side of the room. You turn your attention to the three guards. They step over and handcuff you again. The cold metal digs into your skin. Your heart suddenly begins to pound, fear pulsing through your veins. You don’t want to die. You don’t want the others to die. This is all your _fault_.

            The guards lead the two of you out the room and down the hall into a cold room where the lighting is harsh. “You already know what you have done, so no matter telling you. You made a bad decision.”

            “Where is Hope?” Dave mumbles. He is barely conscious.

            “None of your concern. She has been dealt with.” The guard responds. They couldn’t have killed her, could they?

            They push you and Dave to your knees. The tile causes a chill to seep into the fibers of your jeans and you shiver. This is it. This is how you will die in the apocalypse. It won’t be by the hands of Mother Nature or the Corrupted. It will be by the hands of your own kind.

            And in that moment, even though you don’t believe in God (not anymore, anyway), you pray. You pray so, _so_ hard for Dave, and Jade, and Rose, and everyone else except yourself. You pray that things will be okay and you pray for forgiveness because you’ve done really bad things.

            People with masks covering their noses and mouths step inside of the room and stand behind you and Dave. There are knives in their gloved hands, shimmering silver in the light. They pull your heads back and you close your eyes, bracing yourself for the pain.

            “John.” Dave says.

            “What?”

            “It’s okay.”

            You’re not sure how he could say such a thing. You are a jerk of an elbow away from bleeding out on the floor. Yet, he has seemingly read your mind for the thousandth time since becoming friends years and years ago and it comforts you almost. _Almost._

            You open your eyes to look into the face of your executioner. There is a gleam in their eyes and something about them strikes you as familiar. They wink at you. Your heart races as they jerk their arm across your neck, but not striking it. Instead, they whip the knife at one of the guards, implanting it in their throat. Dave’s executioner does the same and a guard steps into the room as though to stop what was happening, but to your surprise they stab the third guard in the side and fling him onto the floor.

            Dave is now alert and confused. The confusion is replaced by shock when the executioners and guards tug their masks off.

            Looking down at you are Rose, Roxy, and Dirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thank you so much for all the comments and kudos you have been leaving me!  
> I will actually start replying to the comments now since I finally figured out how to reply to them (Wow, so lame). I am very glad that many, or at least a few of you, are enjoying this story.  
> This chapter was slightly difficult for me to write, so I'm sorry for taking a while to get it posted!  
> Thank you for reading! 
> 
>  
> 
> Haha I am actually really happy that I can type Jade again because there were multiple times where I had to go back and edit her name back to Hope in my draft.


	12. Elation

John

            “Holy—” you stammer, shocked and relieved because maybe God answered your prayer. It would be a first, but hell, you’ll take it. Rose’s fingers slip between yours as she pulls you to your feet. It is a secure grip—it feels right. Dirk and Roxy help Dave to his feet. Blood is dried on his face in rivulets and some of it is still fresh at his hairline. His head is obviously still spinning since he can barely stand.

            You hug Rose tightly and say, “I don’t know how you did this, but thank you.”

            “It’s not over yet. We haven’t gotten you home.” She answers.

            Home. What a funny word. It fills your chest with a longing while at the same time empties it out.

            “Ho—Jade,” Dave groans. “Gotta get...”

            “What?” Dirk inquires, glancing sideways at Dave.

            “We need to find her,” he replies in a whisper. Roxy gives you a confused and saddened look.

            “Has he still been acting like this?” Rose lowers her voice.

            You swallow. “Jade is alive.”

            Disbelief colors all of your friends faces (besides Dave, who looks miserable). Rose’s already-pale face turns whiter. “That can’t be...Where is she?”

            “I don’t know,” you respond. “They have her somewhere. Probably in the labs.”

            “Let’s move. Can you lead, John?” Roxy mutters, lifting up Dave. His feet are dragging on the ground. Dirk shakes his head, grabbing Dave and pulling him onto his back. Roxy takes Dirk’s gun as you begin to lead them to the labs. You aren’t really sure where you are, but it will be fine if you follow the signs.

            When you exit the room, the hospital is silent. Empty. You don’t see anyone. Until you lead them up the stairwell. Without hesitation, you take the two guards down. Roxy points down the hallway.

            “Psych labs?”

            “Probably,” you begin to head towards the big, heavy doors leading towards them. Roxy and you stand on either side of the doors. After a moment of silence, you push them open. Guards fire at you. A bullet pierces the flesh of your shoulder. You scream, your vision flickering, nearly dropping the gun that you had grabbed off the last guard. Instead of dropping it, you shoot the guard and Roxy tackles the other one, punching them in the throat and rolling off.

            “Are you okay?” Rose reaches for you.

            “Yes, yes,” you brush her off, wincing. “Gotta find Jade.”

            The hall is filled with silence again excluding the ticking of the clock on the wall. Rose pushes you behind her and continues to walk down the hallway of metal doors. Each door has a small peep-hole like window. She peers in each one, shaking her head after each. The third to last door on the left, though, she nods. Her face is white. “This is it.”

            “What is the matter?” you frown. “Are there people guarding inside?”

            “I don’t believe so.” Rose’s fingers wrap around the handle of the door. There is a calm and eerie hush that fills your ears as the door opens.

            Rose steps in and stops with a gasp. You are still outside of the door. Calm before the storm.

            “Oh my.”

            Heart pounding, you glance over her shoulder and see Jade in a hospital bed across the room. “She’s okay.”

            “Perha—” there is a sharp intake of breath from Rose. A shudder goes through her body and her hands slowly reach towards her stomach. A man in a white lab coat stands before her, a knife in his hand. Blood begins to drip down the silver. “I don’t reckon I’ve seen you three before.”

            Rose crumples to the ground, curling into a ball. “Rose!”

            You start to move to her, but the men aim the barrels of their guns at you.

            “It was a mistake coming here.” The doctor shakes his head. “It was a mistake befriending this girl especially.”

            He looks at Dave, still on Dirk’s back. Dave is glaring at him. “It was a mistake _taking_ her.” Dave growls.

            “Don’t speak to me in that tone or I will make sure you never speak again.” The doctor replies. “This girl came to us.”

            “Hope wants to leave.” Dave replies. “We want to leave. We want to go home.”

            “If you turn around now and lay down your guns, we will let you leave. Patient 22, on the other hand, will be staying for preservation and examination. She was never meant to be around people—wasn’t meant to even leave the hospital. It was a mistake to allow her to do so.”

            “ _Preservation_?” Roxy echoes.

            “She’s not an animal! You can’t just lock her up and keep her from the world and poke and prod her. Find someone else!” you exclaim.

            “Unless one of you want to volunteer, we could consider it.”

            “What do you mean?” Dirk inquires.

            “We are expanding our studies. We need new...rats.”

            “What did you do to her?” you yell. “Fix her— _fix her_!”

            “This is so fucked up,” Roxy’s grip tightens on the gun in her hands.

            “Both of you.” Dirk murmurs. “Calm down.”

            There is a loud ringing in your ears, but you can hear Dave questioning over and over again “What is wrong with Jade?” and you can hear the buzzing of the lights above.

            Roxy starts to go ham with her gun, shooting the armed men. Surprised, you start to shoot as well. Dirk holds tight to Dave while grabbing the doctor at the same time. You kick the knife out of the doctor’s hand and stab another guy in the neck with it when you get close enough. Roxy rips a helmet off another man’s head and hits his head against the wall. It is a frenzy of blurred motion and your shoulder shrieking at you. At the end of it all, you have the doctor’s collar in your fingers and your nose is against his nose.

            “Fix her. Fix her!” your voice is low. Tears sting your eyes. “Fix her now!”

            The doctor is trembling. “It’s too late. She is gone.”

            “ _What_?” Dave cries out. His voice cracks as he begins to cry. It is a horrible sound, wretched and filling the room with the tone of despair and pain. It echoes the feelings in your chest.

            Everyone cringes as Dave slides from Dirk’s back to his feet and staggers over to Jade. He grabs her wrist and pulls the IV out. “Fuck this, fuck this. Jade, you fucking get up.”

            You watch your forlorn friend, lost and desperate, tug at her. After a few moments, he stumbles to his knees and slowly bangs his head against the metal of the bed.

            “Wake them up now. You put them to sleep. What did you use? Pentobarbital? Propofol?” Dirk grabs the doctor by the throat. “You can’t lie to me. Get moving.”

            “What would you know?”

            “Enough.”

            There is an increased amount of banging from across the room and a hiss. Roxy’s eyes widen and she runs to him.

            “Dave, knock it off!” She exclaims. “He’s going to wake her up, it’s okay.”

            His breathing hitches. “I can’t lose her again.”

            “I know.” Roxy pulls him close. “Just take a few breaths. It’s okay.”

            “Wake her up now or I will slit your throat.” Dirk sets his jaw.

            John’s face is red. “You had better help Rose, too.”

            “F-fine.” The doctor holds up his hands as Dirk releases him. He scurries over to the cabinets and gets to work. Dirk is pushing him on.

            You kneel beside Dave. “Are you okay?”

            He nods. “I’m sorry. I must’ve hit my head harder than I thought.”

            “Keep yourself together. We will be fine.” Dirk nudges the doctor who quickly injects Rose with something after she is put into a second bed. He pulls an oxygen mask over her mouth.

            He moves onto Jade. “I-it takes about twenty minutes for it to wear off.”

            “God damn. That is a long time,” Roxy mutters.

            “You are going to stay here and keep monitoring them.” Dirk instructs the doctor. “If they aren’t awake in twenty, you won’t be awake.”

            The doctor swallows and you shake your head.

            “Dave, I’m sorry.”

            “Don’t apologize to me.”

            The tears on his face are no longer there, but his eyes are tinted red.

            “This is my fault,” you whisper. “Your plan was better.”

            “It always is,” Dave smiles slightly. He rests his head on your shoulder and falls asleep.

Roxy

            It has been nineteen minutes.

            Jade has begun to stir, much to Dave’s relief. You stand by the door while the doctor continuously looks over the two.

            “Look at that. One minute,” Dirk raises his eyebrows at the doctor. You doubt his threat was serious...was it? “Close call, huh?”

            There is a murmur over your shoulder and you notice that Jade has started speaking to Dave. You don’t look over, instead continuing to guard the door.

            “Shh, the meds are still wearing off.”

            Rose still seems to be unstable despite the doctor’s work at cleaning the wound and tending to it. It worries you. John is touching her cheek and it makes you sad. The world has matured him too quickly. It is visible in his eyes and in the way his lips curve down. Dirk is alright. If he has a motive, then he can keep pushing. Dave is strong, but has too many cracks in his armor. And you? You aren’t sure. Despite having your friends with you most of the time, you feel lonely. Maybe it is because the world is now a lonely place, but maybe it is also because the others have been busy with, well, ...each other lately.

            Dirk paces the room, watching the clock. “Say, do you have an elevator?”

            “Y-yes.”

            “I think I want to ride in the elevator when we are finished here.”

            “Uh.”

            “What?”

            “There is a problem,” the doctor says.

            John is stiff in his seat.

            “She is stable, since the knife didn’t go in very far, but even if I let her go, there is a possibility that she will die from infection.”

            “Give us antibiotics then. It is as simple as that.” Dave speaks up.

            “O-of course,” the doctor rushes over to the counter and shoves some bottles into a Ziploc bag. Dirk swipes them from his hands before giving them to you.

You put them into your bag.

            “John can you carry Rose?” he questions.

            “Yes.” John lifts Rose up and pulls her over his shoulders with only a small struggle. Meanwhile, Dirk lifts Jade up.

            “I can carry her,” Dave insists.

            “Give me a break. Twenty minutes ago, _I_ was carrying _you_. Just lead us out and Roxy will take the back.                                                                                                                

            Dave nods and takes Dirk’s gun, walking over by the door.

            “Now, Doc, you will sit in this room for the next thirty minutes and won’t say anything to anyone until thirty minutes are over. Then we will be out of your hair forever.”

            “Yes, sir,” he steps back. Dave leads the way out the door and you follow Dirk out.

            “We need to get Reb,” Dave announces.

            “Who?”

            “Jade’s dog.” John huffs, out of breath.

            Dave finds the door that leads outside, except to a barn, and runs inside. You wait outside with the others anxiously. Of course. Can’t forget the dog. You are more of a cat person.

            He steps out with the furry beast by his side. “Okay, let’s get out of here. Where’s Jane and Jake, by the way?”

            “In the truck.” You reply. They are on the other side of the zone, about a ten minute walk from the hospital. You begin your seemingly short trek, sticking to the shadows, to the broken section of fence. It must have recently been broken since the guards have not noticed it yet.

            Dave crawls through, assisting John and Dirk to pass Rose and Jade through it. You go last, tugging at the material that got caught. The others have already started running off, Dirk giving directions.

            “Shit.” You choose to rip the fabric to get free, but a hand reaches through the fence and grabs your arm. Heart beating quickly, you face the owner of the hand. It is a boy with red hair and pale skin wearing the uniform of a guard. His gun is holstered at his hips.

            He recognizes you at the same time you recognize him. There is a silence before he whispers. “Take me with you.”

            You pull him through and grab his wrist. “Come on.”

            When you get back to the truck, the others are just getting in. The boy and you pull yourselves into the back, knocking on the window to signal Jake to drive.

            Pulling out of the town, you catch a final glimpse of the zone. The light of the last civilization you will ever see reflecting in your eyes and upon the twilight sky.

A WEEK LATER

Dave

            The dying sunlight filters through the branches of the tree overhanging the patio. Jade steps out of the greenhouse, dark hair pulled into two short pigtails in the back. Only a week later, and she has gotten to work restoring the greenhouse and garden with happiness. The boy, Kaleb, has been helping her, sticking close to her side. You aren’t bothered by it. He sees her as an older sister and you allow him to see her that way. He has no family left, similar to all of you.

            Sitting on a chair, you watch them as they approach you. There is a sheen of sweat on the girl’s forehead. It is a pretty warm day.

            “Taking a break?” you sit up, smiling at her.

            “For now, yes.”

            Kaleb goes inside. Jade sits next to you in the chair, putting her feet up on the table. She leans her head on your shoulder.

            “I feel safe here.” She takes your hands in her own, her fingers stroking your knuckles.  
            “You are,” you kiss her head.

            There is a long silence. Not an awkward one, but a nice one. The only sound is the soft singing of cicadas in the trees.

            “I’ve been considering,” you pause, “visiting Houston.”

            She looks up at you. “After what we went through getting out of there?”  
            “I...I just want to see if my brother’s really alive, you know? If I were to go, it wouldn’t be long.”

            “Even if he is alive, who’s to say that he is even still living in Houston?”

            “I don’t know. I wasn’t really going to go...I was just thinking about it. It’s stupid...I am sorry,” you apologize quietly.

            She turns towards you. “I think that some things are better left alone. Houston is one of those things.”

            You nod and meet her gaze. “I know.”

            “And you also know that I am here, okay? I love you.”

            A small bit of the weight in your chest lifts. “I love you, too.”

            She tilts her head up to kiss you lightly on the lips.

            The sun has dipped down beneath the trees, the moon fading in to take its place. Stars begin to appear in the darkening sky. Jade takes your hand and stands, leading you over to the grass where you can get a better view. She falls onto her back on the grass and you take a place next to her.

            “Why do you think people always look to the stars for answers?” Jade murmurs. The stars are reflecting in her eyes.

            “I don’t know,” you smile slightly. Sometimes she asks such strange questions.

            She pauses, thinking, before answering, “Maybe it is because they are always there and always have been there. You know, they see everything?”

            “Or maybe it is because they are just like us,” you retort. “They are clinging to the sky like we are clinging to the ground.”

            “Whoa, how deep, Dave,” Jade giggles and scoots closer to you.

            “Things are probably better up there than they are down here.”

            “Either way it’s just as isolated.” You respond.

            “Nah, not down here.” Jade shakes her head.

            “Huh?”

            “It could be worse.” She sighs and sits up, a smile on her face. “Let’s go inside and see if they need help with dinner.”

  Jade offers you her hand and you take it.

_EPILOGUE_

_ONE YEAR LATER_

_Dave_

_T_ he living room is filled with the soft ambience of John playing the piano in the corner. Rose is sitting on the bench next to him. Dirk is dragging a fake Christmas tree down the stairs from the attic and with Jake’s help, sets it up next to the piano. Jane follows Roxy into the room with boxes of ornaments and Kaleb is trying to untangle himself from a very long strand of silver garland.

            “Gahh! Someone help get this off of me,” he is flailing his arms as Jade giggles, starting to pull the garland off of him. You were given the task of putting other Christmas decorations around the house. There would of course be no exchanging of gifts, for there is nothing that could compete with the gift of being together and alive. Celebrating Christmas seems crazy enough and you are lucky to have the ability to do so. It is your first Christmas that you are actually celebrating in the mansion.

            You ditch the box of random decorations and go to help with decorating the tree. Jade opens a bag of tinsel and starts to throw it by the handful onto the branches of the tree while everyone else is still putting on decorations.

            There will be no lights on the tree, but it doesn’t matter. You haven’t seen a Christmas tree in, what, three years now? You barely keep track of the time anymore.

            “Hey, why did you leave this in the box?” Kaleb exclaims from behind you, causing all of your friends to turn around. Embarrassed slightly, you know what he is talking about and slowly turn. A fake mistletoe is dangling in his fingers.

            “Yeah, Dave, why did you leave that in the box?” Jane chuckles.                  

            “Uh, I don’t know, I just haven’t had the chance to hang it yet,” you shrug, lying.

            “Give me a break,” Roxy takes it.

            Dirk grins, “Over here, Rox.”

            She tosses it to him and he catches it, a mischievous look in his eyes. You internally groan. Mistletoes are so cheesy. Why was there a mistletoe in the box anyway?

            Dirk, being taller than everyone, suspends it in the air over your head and Jade’s. She cracks up, covering her face and pushing her hair away from her face. It is longer now.

            “Come on, guys. That is so dorky,” she says, but she is smiling at you.

            “You two are the dorks here! Kiss!” Roxy yells cheerfully. John stops playing piano to spectate, smirking.

            Jade leans forward and kisses you deeply. It causes your heart to well up with a warmth that you’d like to become more familiar with. You kiss her back, your fingers on her cheek.

            The others clap and laugh and as you pull back, Jade is looking at you with a great happiness.

            “Merry Christmas, Dave!” she giggles.

            You smile larger than you ever have and reply, “Merry Christmas, Jade.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, everyone!  
> I am sorry for not posting earlier, but I intended to post the last chapter around Christmas, and this is indeed the last chapter. It has been a long journey for not only the kids, but also for you guys and me! I have been writing this fic for 8 months now and it has been a fun fic to write. I absolutely LOVE apocalypse-themed stories! I hope you have enjoyed it and if you did, please feel free to leave feedback such as kudos or comments. Also, feel free to ask me any questions you may have. This fic will of course not be my last, so stay tuned!  
> Have a great holiday and new year (of fanfictions!)!!!!  
> \--lockandloadharley


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